Ames Qui Dorment
by Sailorcelestial
Summary: “Your questions don’t matter. Your destiny is inside, and you won’t make any more progress in your quest until you step inside.” Updated, chapter seventeen, March 10, 2010.
1. Prologue

****

Authors Notes: Shoot me. Please. Do it now, before I can begin yet another fanfic… oh wait, too late. AAARRRGGHH!! Okay, well, I'm sorry I keep lying about not doing anymore fanfiction… but I AM almost positive that whether I'm finished with these or not, come next Fall I'll have to give it up for grad school. A person cannot slide by with C's in grad school. Anyways, this is my first Inuyasha fanfic, and my first fanfic in a new anime that I haven't begun with a crossover. Nope, no crossover. This is purely Inuyasha, folks. Well, not PURELY. There are a couple of OC's. Bah, I'll just let you figure it out for yourselves. For those who don't know, "sayonara" is how you say goodbye to someone when you don't expect to see them again, ever. That's why bad guys who are planning to kill good guys tell them sayonara, and why (for anyone who has seen Sailormoon subbed) Sailorsaturn says sayonara to Sailormoon before she goes to fight Pharaoh 90. She expects to die. 

****

Thankies: Fuuzaki-chan, for being ever-patient. Tensei, for doing spot translations! Whee! And for doing title help, however successful it may or may not have been. ;o) All the other people I'm too tired to name right now. 

****

Disclaimers: Inuyasha does not belong to me… gods but I wish he did… if he belonged to me I'd… well, nevermind. He belongs to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Lucky. 

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Prologue

The woman kept her eyes forward as she ran; she could not afford to be frightened into stopping by anything she might see around her. Her own life depended on it, but more importantly, the life of the little bundle she carried depended on it. She would not, could not, let that little life be extinguished. 

Somewhere in the dark expanse of forest behind her a howl split the night, but she did not look back. The shuddering sounds of her own heavy breathing kept her from hearing how close they might be. She did not try to silence herself. Nor did she think of her husband, broken and bleeding back in the village. She did not stop to wonder if he still lived. She knew he would want this as much as she did, to save the life they created and guarded with their very souls. Their child. Their son. 

Something grabbed at her leg, brushed the fragile human flesh, but she ignored it. Her destination loomed so close, so very close, and she would not be stopped now, not when she had made it so far. Another claw-thing grabbed at her arm, taking a bit of skin with it, but the woman did not cry out. She did not even flinch. Her eyes remained on the darkened shape before her, the half-square that inhabited the nightly forest. She did not know if this would work; the well had not been used in years and had fallen a bit into disrepair. She'd never expected to use it again. But she had to save her son. She had to. 

She tripped when another thing grabbed at her legs, this time taking flesh and muscle and blood. This time she screamed, but only for a moment. Her bundle fell from her arms and rolled, the little arms and legs inside flailing, trying to find some purchase in the ground hidden by the blankets. He did not make a sound, having been told by his mother not to, but she knew he was afraid because he could not see why he had been so suddenly dropped. But she did not dare call to him. 

Instead, she lifted herself onto her wounded leg, winced, and went to her son. She picked him up, making a soft cooing sound to assure him that it was she and not one of the attackers, who held him. She heard a small whimper from inside the blanket, and hugged him tightly as she climbed over the side of the well. As she dropped inside, her mind nearly fell into welcome darkness with the knowledge that the attackers could not follow and she and her son were safe. She was jarred into consciousness only a moment later when she hit the ground and her leg sent a shock of pain up through her spine. She would have screamed, without having to think of alerting the attackers to her presence, save for her son. She did not want to frighten him any more than he already was. 

She took him in one arm, using the other, much stronger now than when she first began her adventure, to climb the ladder. She smiled a little. Obviously her family had expected her to come back eventually, though she had told them she would not. The ladder made her climb much easier than it would otherwise have been, and much easier than the climb on the way back would be. 

At the top, she saw the clean lines of the well building clearly in the light of the rising sun. The journey had taken up the remainder of the night. At home, the attackers would be forced to retreat until the following night. When her business here was done she could return to her husband and see if . . . 

Shaking her head free of those thoughts, she stepped across the freshly mopped floor and through the doorway. Looking down, she felt bad to see she had left a blood trail across her mother's clean floor, but it could not be helped. Her son remained stiff in her arms, frightened so badly by these things he did not understand. She had not told him exactly where they were going, and he did not know about the well. She and her husband had been waiting until he was older to tell him everything. 

The woman jumped a bit when the car of some early-morning business person zoomed by. So many years since she had heard one, she laughed at herself for being just like a tourist from the past to the future. She did not even think of this world as home anymore. It was, as it was to her husband and friends, merely "the other world". 

Sounds came to her ears from inside the main house that told her that her mother, at least, was awake and working. The woman had not planned to actually see her mother. She had planned to leave her son and go, trusting him to be safe in the few minutes before her mother opened the door to breathe in the morning air. At least, she hoped her mother still followed that ritual. It made no difference now, not when she had made the decision to see her mother. She took a deep breath, gently patted her son's head through his coverings, and limped to the front door. 

Walking in seemed improper, for she no longer lived there and had not for years. So she knocked on the door of the house that had once been her home. The sounds inside paused, then footsteps came towards the door. The woman held her breath. The door swung slowly open and a pair of familiar black eyes peered out through the crack.

"Yes?"

Her mother didn't recognize her. She choked back some tears, then spoke.

"Okaa-san . . ."

The woman on the inside did not move or acknowledge the word for a moment, a long moment filled with fear for her daughter standing on the outside. Then the truth broke through the clouds of her mind and shone on her old and lonely heart. The bleeding woman heard a gasp from the other, then the door was wide open and her mother had her hands over her mouth.

"Kagome!" Those old and well-loved eyes widened when she saw the steadily dripping blood falling on the front step. "You're hurt!" Higurashi-san took her daughter by the shoulders and led her inside, sobbing and smiling. She brought some wet towels to clean the larger wounds, then ripped some sheets to dress them. There was silence between them, but Kagome could feel that her mother thought she had returned forever.

"Okaa-san," Kagome said quietly, having set the shivering bundle on the table, "I can't stay. I have to go back. Inuyasha, he . . ." She stopped herself, not wanting to frighten the boy. She knew her mother needed no further explanation. She knew because she knew her eyes reflected her pain and her voice broke with not knowing. Her mother nodded. "I just . . . I need you to take care of him."

"Him?"

Kagome finally took the blankets off her son, revealing to her mother the visage of her grandson. Small golden eyes blinked at the brightness of the room, and a chubby arm reached up to shield his vision. The other hand gripped his mother's robes tightly as he snuggled close to her, unsure of his new surroundings. The light shone on his glossy black hair, so much like his mother's. Through the strands poked the ends of two slightly pointed ears, placed on the sides of his head like human ears. 

"His name is Inuken," Kagome told her mother, placing her hand on the boy's head protectively. "We've been attacked every night for the past month. The creatures . . . they only come at night but they do so much damage and . . . kill so many people." Poor Inuken had learned, so early, the meaning of the word 'kill'. "We have yet to find out how to stop them, and I can't keep fighting them off with Inuken to watch over." She swallowed back the hard lump of pain and regret in her throat, swallowed it because she knew that despite her fears and misgivings, she was doing the only thing she could. "Especially now that Inuyasha's been . . . hurt."

Her mother listened to the story with fearful eyes, brimming with sympathetic tears, trained on her grandson. When Kagome finished, the woman nodded. 

"I understand. How old is he?"

"He's four. He seems to be aging at the human rate for now, but we don't know if that will change when he matures. He has a healthy appetite, and prefers meat, but I've made him eat vegetables as well." Kagome shuddered, cold from the loss of blood. She knew she had to return soon and could only settle for the quick dressings her mother had made. "Okaa-san . . . I . . ." She drew it her failing breath, failing not only because of her weak body but because of what she was to say. "When I return through the well . . . I can't take the risk of the attackers finding a way through the well, now that they know its power."

"Oh, Kagome, no!"

"I have to. I have to seal it forever." Kagome hugged her mother tightly, Inuken staring up at her with his so-innocent eyes. Then she sat in a chair next to the table. 

"Okaa-san?" His voice carried questions, the same questions in his eyes. What was going on? She wouldn't really leave him, would she? His bottom lip trembled and Kagome wavered for the first time. But her sense overcame her emotion, for once in her life, and she smiled.

"Inuken, I have to go back to help Otou-san." Her hand smoothed his tangled black hair even as it shook. She placed a kiss on his forehead, lingering there as she wondered what life would be like without her son. Especially if she returned to find she had lost her husband as well. "This is your Obaa-san. You're going to stay with her for a while, until we can make the bad people go away."

Inuken turned his gaze to his grandmother, who smiled down at him. He furrowed his brow and made an expression that brought fresh tears to Kagome's eyes, because it made him look so much like his father. Inuken puffed out his chest and looked to his mother.

"I'll help. I'll make bad people run fast!"

"No, you have to stay here and let the grown ups take care of this."

"You'll come back, ne?"

Kagome, not trusting her voice, nodded. Only pure will kept her face dry under this new pressure. Inuken sighed, as though telling her he would put up with this grievous mistake, if only for her sake. She managed a small bit of laughter. Her son truly was his father's child. Inuyasha often gave the same sigh. Kagome hugged her son for the last time, and stood.

"He hasn't shown any power yet. He may not have any, but be careful if he does. He won't know how to control it when it begins to manifest."

"I will. Souta-ojisan will help." The woman added the suffix for the benefit of her new grandson, whom only ten minutes ago had not existed for her. Kagome marveled at how quickly her mother adapted. The woman sniffled and reached out to her daughter, who nearly fell into those arms so dearly missed. Kagome thought that nothing could be wrong with the world so long as her mother was around to hug her. But she had to leave her mother, and let her arms hug Inuken instead of herself. Kagome pushed her mother away and smiled.

"Arigatou, Okaa-san. Say . . . Sayonara." 

Higurashi-san straightened, holding back an undignified and teary snuffle at the good-bye her daughter gave. She turned her back. Kagome knew it was not that her mother did not care, but that she cared too much, and would likely try to stop her daughter. So Kagome turned without another word and left the house that would never again be her home, and the little boy who might never again be her son. 

End Prologue. 


	2. Chapter One: La Maison de ma gradmere

****

Authors Notes: Don't ask me why I'm writing this. I don't know. It's one of those ideas that just refuse to go away. Bleh. I think I'm going to do something really evil. Those of you who know, will recognize the… evilness. ::grins:: For those of you who will understand what I'm doing, YES I realize I'm probably making some grievous time and age mistakes in order to do this. It's fanfiction. I'm allowed. And wow, this has to be the longest chapter I've written in a good long while. Enjoy it while it lasts, long chapter fans.

****

Thankies: Fuuzaki-chan. Tensei-chan. Pleiades-sama, for being a great beta reader. Moon Faery-chan. Blah, blah, blah.

****

Disclaimers: Inuyasha, most unfortunately, does not belong to me. He and all characters related to him belong to Takahashi Rumiko. Inuken, however, DOES belong to me. HAH!

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapter One – Je pars la maison de ma grand-mère

The light dwindled steadily as he made his way home. Yawning, Inuken reflected on how long practice had lasted and decided that next time he would go home before night began, no matter what the coach said. Baseball was important, but not that important. Not so important that he could miss helping Obaa-san with dinner. She counted on him so much, especially in the past couple of years, since the arthritis set in. 

Two streets from home, Inuken reached back and pulled the elastic band from his hair and let it down to its full just-past shoulder length. The school couldn't make him cut it, but they could make him wear it back in a ponytail. He much preferred it down. He felt more than free then. He felt wild, as though no power could subdue him and no force contain him. Inuken grinned, swung his bag over his shoulder, and ran the rest of the way home.

The kitchen light burned through the window, and his grandmother's familiar silhouette moved against the soft orange background. A moment's pause to take in her loved presence, then Inuken stepped into the yard, up the walk, and through the front door.

"Obaa-san! I'm home!"

She came around the corner, grey hair cropped as short as ever, wrinkled face smiling her tired smile. He could remember, from the first of his memories, when her hair had only a few silver streaks, few and far between. He could not, however, remember a time when she did not look sad and tired, even while smiling. 

"Inuken, I was about to begin worrying. Those practices keep getting later every year." She took his hand in her two crinkled ones and patted him gently. "I'm going to have to talk to that coach of yours."

"No need, Obaa-san," Inuken leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead, "The season is over for the year after the next game." 

"And you'll be graduating, so you won't be playing next year." That familiar gleam settled into her black eyes, and Inuken sighed inwardly. "Have you decided what you're going to do after high school? You've already said you don't want to go to University. Will you play baseball professionally?"

The thought had crossed his mind. He certainly liked baseball. He just wasn't sure he liked it all THAT much, and when he told her so he didn't need to hear her sigh to see it in her eyes. He looked to the floor and fidgeted. Why did she have to be so worried about his future? He wasn't. Something in his bones told him that his future was waiting for him, somewhere, if only he could find it; it wasn't something he could explain to her and have her understand. Even if her old stories were fantastic. 

"Don't worry, I'll decide on something soon. Now, what's for dinner and how can I help?" He spent twenty minutes helping her finish the food, and another hour sitting with her, eating and talking and just enjoying her company. For, like any old woman, she had many wonderful stories to tell. Inuken still enjoyed listening to them even if she did make them all up just to make him feel better and he had long ago stopped believing in them. He even had a favorite or two. "Tell me again about the evil miko."

"Oh, she wasn't really evil, not from what your mother told me." Obaa-san's eyes took on that far away look that came when she thought or spoke about her daughter. Inuken wondered, not for the first time, what his mother had done so horribly in her abandonment to make Obaa-san cover the truth with these stories. "Kikyou-sama was merely betrayed and misguided. And sad, very sad. She thought she could replace her sadness with revenge or stolen love, but in the end she finally realized revenge could never sate the emptiness, and love could not be stolen."

"Why did my father finally decide on my mother?"

Obaa-san gave him a tired glance, as she always did when he spoke of "father" and "mother". 

"It was not finally. He knew his love belonged to your okaa-san long before he ever gave it to her. He merely knew that he must make it clear to Kikyou-sama first, and he could not do that so long as she remained in danger from herself and Naraku." A small smile graced her old face. "Your otou-san was always a far better man than he thought himself to be. Once he knew that what had happened with Kikyou-sama had been a horrible misunderstanding, set in motion by the most evil of youkai, he set out to protect her. He felt responsible for her. Perhaps he still felt the remains of the love he once felt, but in the end he knew that though her body walked, it was only mud and bones, while your okaa-san was flesh and blood. Kikyou-sama was his past, Kagome his future."

Obaa-san rarely spoke her daughter's name. When she did, her eyes always threatened tears and Inuken always felt a surge of anger towards his mother. Obaa-san insisted on referring to them as "okaa-san" and "otou-san" which seemed very familiar. Too familiar for two people Inuken couldn't remember. So he used English, and called them "mother" and "father". It helped to set them apart from himself in his mind. They would never be more than two distant and undeserving figures to him. 

Inuken sighed and took the two plates into his hands and rose, planting another kiss on his grandmother's forehead. 

"I always love your stories, Obaa-san. They make everything seem magical, even when they aren't."

She made the same non-committal sound she always did. He knew she was disappointed that he didn't believe her anymore. But geez, he thought as he placed the plates on the counter and ran water into the sink, couldn't she understand that he was seventeen? Almost eighteen? Only really weird or wacky people actually believed things like that. Magic wells and youkai and jewels that raised power. Did his grandmother really believe that his father was a powerful hanyou? Granted, Inuken's eyes were an odd golden color, but things like that happened. Half-demon men marrying human women did not. 

"Inuken," she said as she walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "why don't you take a walk? This isn't much to clean; I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I know how much you love walking in the moonlight."

"Alright. But I won't take long."

"Take as long as you like. I'm not going anywhere." She smiled at him. He smiled back.

Outside, the sun had long given way to the moon, relinquishing power for the night. The softer light cast a spell over his familiar home, making well-known places dark and foreboding. Shadows changed as the light breeze was carried through tree branches. Colors all drained into shades of black and blue, even Inuken's own clothing and skin. Enemies could be lurking behind every building, around any tree. Anyone else would be frightened; Inuken loved the dark and unknown. While out at night he could almost imagine that his grandmother's stories were true; that his father really was a powerful inu-hanyou, that his mother really was a legendary miko, and as their son he was possessed of powers rightfully his. Almost he could imagine he smelled the far-off scent of someone cooking, that his ears- of a slightly different shape than most people's- could really pick up sounds from a mile or more away. Inuken could almost fall into the fantasy of being more than what he knew he was: a regular human, possessing no powers or special abilities. 

The enhanced hearing he didn't have picked up a strange sound. Inuken turned, not sure he really had heard anything. The sound came from the old well-building, long ago boarded up and abandoned to time. Something, his ears told him, scratched at the inside of the door. Something that shouldn't and couldn't be in there, because that door had not been opened since . . . well, since he'd arrived, if his grandmother could be believed. Nothing could survive in a locked building for almost fourteen years. 

He heard a dish shatter. He forgot the scratching.

"Obaa-san!"

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~ 

Aya brought flowers and set them beside the hospital bed. Inuken looked up from where he sat to the small and shy girl. She rarely spoke in class, but she was the first to come and wish his grandmother well when she'd heard. Inuken knew that Aya liked him. Not only did she blush slightly when he looked at or spoke to her, her feeling was like an aura around her, or a smell. He could smell it on her, that she was attracted to him. She was pretty enough, no doubts about that. He could like her back. But how could he get to know her if she never spoke above a whisper?

And how could he think about that now?!?

"Arigatou, Aya-san." 

Aya only nodded, arranging the flowers on the vase. The two were silent for several minutes, the boy in the chair looking at his unconscious grandmother and the girl standing by the table playing with the flowers. The silence dragged on, and Inuken wondered why Aya didn't just leave.

"I . . . I got them from my onii-san." 

Inuken blinked and looked up at her again. She finally lowered her hands from the flowers and looked at him. Her face flushed furiously, but her eyes were steady.

"The flowers. My onii-san partially owns and helps run a flower shop. He lets me pick the best when I want them."

"That's . . . nice." _What's the point?_

"Ran-oniisan is protective of me, but mostly lets me do whatever I want. He worries. I was in a coma once. For a very long time." Her eyes finally wavered and fell to the floor, but she kept speaking, "T-The point is that most comas don't last as long as mine did, and when I woke up I was fine. S-So your obaa-san will probably be fine."

Inuken smiled. Aya was very sweet, after all. Nice, sweet girls tended to be shy. Not including that girl Usagi. He heard tales that she was very loyal to her friends and very sweet, but she was not shy at all. Usagi tended to show up at the strangest places, and Inuken had some suspicion about her, but that was better left to another time. 

"I'm going to go home for a little while and rest," he told Aya, "I can't do much for her here if I'm tired. Besides, Souta-ojisan will be here soon. Would you like to walk with me?"

He hadn't known it possible to turn an even deeper shade of red than she already was, but apparently it was possible. She nodded, and he hoped his small invitation wouldn't make her clam up even tighter than normal. 

She was quiet for the first few minutes of the walk, but after he mentioned swords, a fascination for him because of his name, she opened up. Apparently her onii-san was also something of a swordsman, thought she wouldn't tell Inuken where he used a sword. She knew a great deal about swords, and spoke openly on the subject. They'd found something in common after all, and Inuken noticed she became even more attractive when she became animated. When they arrived at the Higurashi shrine, Inuken invited her inside the grounds to continue their walk and talk. He knew Obaa-san would be overjoyed. 

Aya explained to him the weapons her onii-san's friends were interested in; she didn't know as much about them, but enough to carry on a conversation. Inuken, like Aya herself, found the other weapons interesting but really only wanted to learn swordplay. Maybe that's what he would do . . . maybe he would become a swordsman. For what purpose, he didn't know, but it sounded interesting enough. 

"What's that?" Aya pointed to the old well-building.

"Oh, there's a well in there. The building's been shut up for ages, since before I came to live with Obaa-san. She tells all kinds of weird stories about it."

"Like what?"

"Oh, she says it's some kind of portal to the past. She used to tell me those stories when I was little and I believed every one of them. But now that I'm older, I don't. I think it disappoints her that I've grown up."

Aya walked up to the board door and touched the old wood.

"Did she ever use it?" 

"No, she said she never did, but her daughter, my mother, used to make a habit of it." He shrugged. He didn't feel like sharing his grandmother's stories about his parents. "Come on, we can get something to eat and drink in the house before you go home."

He didn't like the way Aya paused, looking at the old building as though she expected something to come out. Finally she backed away and followed him, but she glanced backwards at least once. 

Inside he warmed up some of the leftovers from the day before, before his grandmother collapsed. The doctors still didn't know exactly what had happened, but they knew it had something to do with her brain because she was in a coma and it didn't have anything to do with her hitting her head. Inuken worried about her as he set a plate in front of Aya. She'd quieted considerably since coming inside. 

"Are you okay?"

She looked up at him. She didn't blush.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. It's just . . ." Now her face flushed. "You realize there are going to be all sorts of rumors now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a girl going alone into the home of a boy that everyone knows is alone in the house until his grandmother gets better." Aya's face came close to the shade of her hair. Inuken felt his own face growing a bit warm.

"Oh."

"I should probably go home before it gets dark." In fact, the light was already beginning to wane. Soon it would be dark, and if she stayed, the rumors would only be twice as bad. However, Inuken found himself not wanting her to leave. He liked her, now that he'd been able to get her to talk, and wanted to keep talking.

"No, you don't have to. I mean, are your parents going to be upset?"

Aya looked to the floor. Inuken remembered she hadn't said a word about her parents, only her onii-san. 

"They . . . they're dead."

"It's okay. Mine are dead too, or might as well be." He shrugged when she tossed him a curious look. "They left me here when I was four and I haven't seen them since. They never write to me or call, not even on my birthday. All I know about them comes from my obaa-san's stories, and she's made up some elaborate fantasy involving that stupid well, I think because her daughter's abandoning her hurt so much she doesn't want to remember the truth."

"What kind of stories?"

Inuken sighed and looked to the ceiling, trying to remember everything.

"Oh, my mother used to time travel all the time, and she met my father five hundred years in the past. They met and fell in love during the Sengoku Jidai, searching for pieces of some mystical jewel. There was plenty of evil and plenty of adventure. They even had a kitsune-youkai for a friend. The only part she ever left out was explaining why they left me here. She never would tell me that."

"Wow." Aya's eyes were wide. "That all sounds very . . . interesting."

"You haven't even heard the best part." Now that Inuken was telling the story, he wanted very much for her to believe it as strange and unthinkable as he did; for some reason it was very important that she tell him the stories were unbelievable. "According to Obaa-san, not only did my father live five hundred years ago, he was a hanyou."

"A-A hanyou? You mean, a half-youkai?"

"That's exactly what I mean. Obaa-san told me that my father was half inu-youkai and half-human."

Aya sat very quietly, watching him with her violet eyes. Her study of him made Inuken uncomfortable, but at least she seemed to have forgotten about leaving. Why did keeping the girl he wanted to know better involve bringing up the well and things he _didn't_ want to know better? Inuken watched her thinking until he didn't think he could stand it anymore.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking . . . well, I think there's only one thing to do." She placed her hands flat on the table and rose from her chair, a sudden determined gleam entering her eyes. 

"What's that?" 

"There's only one way to find out if your obaa-san's stories are true. Open the well."

Inuken felt a shock. Open the well? The thought startled him, and sent him back to a dark place, where creatures lurked in shadow and reached out when one least expected them. In his mind he heard a terrible shrieking, and the heavy breathing of someone close to him running very hard. 

"Inuken-san?" Aya's voice reached out to him over the darkness and pulled him back to the present. She gazed on him, worry in her eyes.

"It's okay, I'm okay." He wasn't okay, not really, but he wouldn't tell her that. What he'd heard and seen had the sharpness of memory, but nothing like that had ever happened to him. If it had, it would have to have been before he came to live with Obaa-san, but he never remembered anything before that time. He'd always come up against a stark, lonely blank wall in his mind whenever he tried to remember his mother, his father, or anything before Obaa-san. Aya mentioned opening the well, however, and suddenly he saw and heard things he couldn't explain. 

"Inuken-san, I should—"

"No." He stood, making his decision. "No, we'll do it. We'll open the well. If that's the only way to find out the truth, then it has to be done." He looked at her. "I can do it by myself, if you really want to—"

"No, no I'll help. I want to help."

"Then come with me."

They went out the back door to the storage building. Obaa-san had a story even for that, about a possessed mask that ate people in search of a body. Like all the other monsters of her stories, her daughter had defeated this one as well, with the help of the hanyou from the past. _Well, Obaa-san, I guess I'm about to find out whether everything you've ever told me has been truth or lie._

Inuken found two crowbars inside with all of the armor and 'ancient' ancestral shrine antiques. He asked Aya again if she was sure, thinking her body too small to be of any real use, but she nodded and clutched the crowbar tightly, determined to be of some help. He nodded and they left the storage, locking the building behind them. Across the property they went, to the well-building that sat alone and silent. It was dark now; his story and Aya's pondering had taken up those last few precious minutes of daylight. No matter what happened, they would have rumors to deal with. 

The two set about prying boards from the door, and Inuken was surprised at how strong Aya was despite her smallness. She pulled her fair share, sweating and straining, but with little more difficulty than he himself had. They had one board left to go and were discussing who would have the honor of pulling it when Inuken heard the scratching again. He lifted a hand to stop Aya from speaking, and they both listened carefully. 

It sounded almost like a dog scratching at a door to be let out, but there came no whining or barking to reinforce that idea. Aya looked at him, and he shrugged. Whatever was making the noise, he didn't know. Aya crept close to the door and put an ear to the wood. Inuken followed, more quietly than he ever imagined he could move, and touched the door himself. 

There was a flash. Inuken and Aya jumped. The thing made deep growl and hissed, definite proof that something indeed was inside. But it didn't scratch again at the door. 

"Okay," Inuken said, "let's get this last board off."

"Are you sure?" Aya stood as he did, and both looked to the door. Only one board stood between them and the thing. "Just because it isn't scratching doesn't mean it's not there anymore."

"I'm sure. I have to know." And he did. Since deciding on this course of action Inuken had known that he had to do this. He had to open the well. He had to see if it was all truth or lies. He had to know. 

Aya nodded. She stepped back, leaving him open to pull the last board. Inuken moved forward, placed his crowbar in position and yanked. The board slid easily from the door, nails sliding from wood as though wood were butter. It fell to the ground with a clatter. The door was free to be opened as it had not been in fourteen years. Inuken took a deep breath, reached forward, and slid the door to the side.

Something small, black, and thin leaped from the darkness towards him, hissing a trail of acrid smoke as it flew through the air. Aya screamed. Inuken took a step back but as he did he instinctively swung the crowbar. Metal connected with the creature, but instead of feeling a solid impact, Inuken again saw the flash of light. The thing exploded and dust sprinkled down over the two surprised and frightened teenagers. They stood staring at each other as white ash continued to rain and the impact of what had happened hit and passed. Then fear gave way to something else, and Inuken grinned.

"That . . . was so . . . COOL!"

Aya gave him a wavering smile that said she could have lived without that experience, thank you very much. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, then opened them again. 

"Well, shall we go in?"

"Hell yeah!" Excitement flooded through his head, his limbs, and his gut. Every part of Inuken screamed for more of what had just occurred: battle. A small one, yes, hardly worth noting, but a battle all the same. He grabbed Aya's small hand in his and pulled her with him as he charged into the small building. His eyes took only a moment to adjust to the darkness inside, for it was only slightly darker that outside. In the center of the room stood the well. 

The thrill of the moment seemed to heighten his senses. Inuken could smell his grandmother in here, as well as Souta-ojisan. There were other smells, many too old and vague to be sorted, but two stood out. He didn't recognize them, but stored them in his memory all the same. He walked to the well and saw on it and the well-cover many ofuda. The older ones gave off a smell that tickled Inuken's memory, but he could not place. The newer ones, and new meant only not as old as the others, smelled of Souta-ojisan. 

"Inuken-san, can you open it?"

He looked and saw Aya right beside him. Then he realized he was still holding her hand and dropped it quickly.

"There shouldn't be any problem." He reached out to the well, prepared to open it and rip through the flimsy paper wards. Just before touching the handle, however, he felt a sharp shock and pulled back. Aya asked him what was wrong, but he only shook his head. The shock served not only to make him back away, but also to cut through the excitement he'd been feeling. Now he was afraid again, afraid of what all this could mean. But the fear wasn't enough to stop him. He reached out again and this time was able to put his hand on the well-cover without any adverse effects. He felt Aya's hands on his sleeve. He took a breath, then another, paused, and opened the well.

Nothing happened. No light, no wind, no giant youkai like the sort that supposedly took his mother that first time. He released his breath and beside him Aya released his sleeve. 

"Well, that was rather anti-climactic." Aya put her hands on the well rim and leaned over the side. "I don't see anything down there either. Wait, there's a ladder. Why would anyone put a ladder in a well?"

Inuken didn't reply, but he knew. He'd heard the stories so many times he could remember nearly every little detail, including this one. 

"Inuken-san, are you coming?"

He blinked and looked down to see Aya halfway down the ladder. She had stopped to call to him, and her violet eyes were staring up at him impatiently. Well, with her already down there, he didn't really have much of a choice, now did he? Inuken sighed and lifted himself over the side, then climbed down the ladder. Two steps from the bottom he stopped and watched Aya stomp her feet in the dirt.

"Well," she said, looking up at him, "nothing's happening."

"I know. I think . . . I think it has to be me."

Aya paused to think. A shaft of moonlight must have entered through the open door and bounced down to the bottom of the well, because suddenly her pale skin washed alive with glowing light. Inuken reached down from his perch on the ladder.

"Aya-san, take my hand. I don't want you to be left here alone if something does happen." 

She nodded and took his hand. He stepped down from the ladder and set foot on the packed dirt beneath. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. Inuken sighed and watched Aya's face fall in disappointment. Apparently she'd been expecting something, at least on some level. He couldn't say he had not expected . . . a light. A shift. Something. 

"Come on," he said, tugging at her hand, "Let's get back up so I can send you home and spare _some_ of your reputation at least."

"Okay." Aya sighed. Inuken turned and placed a hand on the ladder. Then, "Inuken-san! Wait!"

Liquid light began to fill the bottom of the well as though a leak had sprung. As blue, white and pink began to flow over his shoes and up the length of his legs, Inuken had the brief and insane notion that he might drown in the light and should hold his breath. He felt Aya's small hand squeeze his as the light surrounded them both and the bottom of the well vanished.

End Chapter One.


	3. Chapter Two: Dans l'Endroit Bizarre

****

Authors Notes: Okay, so I guess anyone who's going to know knows. Âmes Qui Dorment has turned into an Inuyasha/Weiss Kruz crossover. Just a small one though!! Aya is the only character I'm actually going to bring into the story!! And since we don't get to see much of her in WK, then I can do what I want with her personality! It's fanfiction! Whoo hoo!! Ain't fanfiction great?

****

Thankies: Fuuzaki-chan, for making me start this chapter. Who knows, I may have actually written more on Mended Wing otherwise. Tensei-chan, for being a strong woman. Pleiades-sama, for giving HP info and for being the awesomest beta reader EVER! Hey, is awesomest a word? Trenchcoat Man, for making ME a strong woman. Even if you had to be the world's biggest asshole to do it. My mom, for trying to protect me from life's lessons even though she knows sometimes we have to learn the hard way.

****

Disclaimers: Aw hell. Inuyasha, in all of his hanyou glory, and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. I don't know who Weiss Kruz belongs to, but it's not me. Damn it all. But Inuken . . . now HE belongs to me!

****

Oh yeah, and I have a job now, so weekdays are sucky as far as writing goes now. I'm usually too tired after getting home to write. But I'll write and update when I can. 

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapter Two - Dans l'Endroit Bizarre

Inuken awoke before dawn. In the three days since the journey through the well, he'd gone to bed late and risen early. This routine was through no choice of his own; his senses burned with a fire he couldn't explain except to say that it came with the place. His ears heard more sounds than he'd ever heard in his life. His eyes saw more movement and his nose smelled more smells. All were familiar, reaching into the deep well of his memory and touching some part of him yet hidden. From that hidden part rose a single feeling that could be described in one word.

__

Home.

Inuken no longer doubted his grandmother's stories. It would be stupid to doubt after having taken such a trip. Now that he accepted the thought, he accepted that his instincts were right. This place with its myriad new sounds and sights and smells was his true home, a place he wanted to explore.

But he couldn't leave Aya. He glanced to where the girl still slumbered. He wanted to protect her yet leave her. He wanted to guide her yet strand her. This place held no more interest for him after three days. 

They'd come up from the well into the place Inuken knew was called the Inuyasha Forest, after his father. Aya had been frightened for all of the curiosity she had shown on the other side of the well. Inuken realized that she had not expected anything to happen, while some part of himself had known it would. Once he lifted her from the dark circle of stone, he'd hunted out the path leading away that was the most worn. That way, he'd decided, must be the way to the village where his mother and father lived. So they'd gone that way.

Only to find the village deserted. Not a single soul haunted the old houses left to rot and fall. Some abandoned homes showed signs of pillage and others of some worse sort of invasion. Most, however, were simply empty. Inuken had agreed with Aya to stay a few days to see if anyone would return on the off chance that someone regularly checked the village for life. No one came, and Inuken wanted to be off. He wanted to find his parents. 

"Inuken-san?" 

He turned to see Aya sitting up, her hand placed over her mouth to stifle a yawn. Her mussed hair made a cloud of fire around her head that shone in the pale light shining through the windows. The sun just barely peeked over the horizon. 

"Inuken-san, you're not getting enough sleep."

Amazing. Five-hundred years in the past and the girl still managed to be a mother hen. Inuken sighed and shifted to face her. 

"I want to leave. No one's coming here. This place is a ghost town, face it. We can't stay here."

"We can find the village stores. There might be some food preserved well enough to still be good." Aya pulled her knees to her chest. "Even if we can't, the village is a good place for foraging and hunting. And it's close to the well. We'll get lost if we go any further than here." She pleaded with him with her eyes. The only reason they were still here and not back through the well was because Inuken refused to go back.

"Aya-san, I want . . . no, I _need_ to find my parents. I need to know why they left me in the future." He turned to gaze out the door. The light still remained faint, but his eyes picked up things he now knew Aya's could not. He saw the emptiness of the forest around them. There were no birds or rabbits or any other sort of animal that should be in the forest. No owls flew home after a good night's hunting. Nothing lived here, and Inuken knew he couldn't find his parents in a dead village surrounded by dead forest.

"We can't stay here forever, Inuken-san. We have to go home. Your obaa-san will be worried about you, and I know my onii-san is searching for me already."

"If you want to go back, you can. The well is still there, and there's nothing stopping you." Inuken stood and moved into the steadily growing sunlight. "I'm staying here until I find my parents and ask them why the abandoned me."

He left her there. Anger swelled through his vision. Why couldn't she understand? Her parents were dead, but his were alive and hiding somewhere in this new- or perhaps old- and exciting world. He needed to find them, needed to see if the stories about his father were true, and needed to know. He needed to know if they were heartless people, or if there had been some deeper reason for his mother's relinquishment of her son to the harsher world of the future. 

Well, he didn't need Aya to understand. If she couldn't then she could just go back. As he'd said, the well was there and waiting for her and there was nothing keeping her from returning to her world. 

The forest, so dense, so dark, called to him from the edge of the old village. Inuken felt a tug in his bones, in the very central part of himself, that pulled him to the trees. He ignored it. He couldn't go there and lose himself, not until Aya was gone. As long as she stayed, he had to protect her. 

His ears picked up the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. He turned slowly to see Aya, red hair tamed somewhat, violet eyes begging for forgiveness.

"Gomen nasai, Inuken-san. I didn't think about your parents. I should have realized-"

"No, it's okay. If you want to go back now, I'll walk with you to the well."

She paused and looked over her shoulder in the direction of the well. He saw her bottom lip curve into her teeth as she attempted to make her decision. Then she sighed and turned to him.

"I'll stay here with you. I can't leave you alone here. You may have come from this time, but you still don't know anything about it or know anyone." She smiled. "You also need a woman to keep you from doing anything stupid."

Inuken rolled his eyes.

"Feh."

"Such as running off into the forest with no supplies whatsoever."

"Erm . . . I wasn't going to do that."

Aya smiled and shook her head. She led him back to the house where they'd been staying. Inuken found two old packs, one that looked strangely modern, if a little out of date. Together they packed up some basic cooking utensils, some strips of cloth that could be used to bandage injuries as Aya was certain one or both of them would be hurt in the course of their travels, and in a search of the village found some dried meat somehow untouched by the weather or scavengers. Aya also insisted that they roll up the blankets they'd been sleeping in and attach them to their backs with a length of rope cut in half. Once all was said and done, Inuken had to admit, even if only to himself, that Aya had thought ahead better than he and this would probably save their lives in the forest. 

Finally the girl told him they were ready and they set out for the forest. The trees surrounded the village on three sides and Inuken and Aya headed out on the side opposite the well's location. Inuken wanted to make certain they would not go back through until he had found his parents. 

The complete silence of the place unnerved him even more the deeper they traveled. Inuken watched Aya to see if she sensed it, but her eyes remained wide with simple wonder at the vast number of trees in one spot. A true child of the future, Aya could only see the beauty of a forest larger than any she had ever seen or probably dreamed existed. A true human, she couldn't know that the silence she heard was so thick as to extend to his own senses. The further away from the village they walked, the more Inuken felt like growling at the scenery around him. He could understand there being no forest creatures around the village if it had been attacked. The animals would sense the violence that had occurred and not venture close. But why did there remain no signs of life this deep into the woods?

After a while, even Aya began to notice. She began walking closer to Inuken and glancing around with wary eyes.

"Inuken-san, I haven't heard a bird since we left."

He grunted to show he heard her.

"In fact, I don't think I've heard a single animal at all since we got to this time."

Again Inuken grunted. This time he saw the shift through the corner of his eye as she turned her face upward to look at him. 

"You don't sound very surprised."

"I heard the silence before we left. There aren't any animals in this forest, or if there are they're very good at hiding themselves." He walked forward, letting her keep as close as she wanted and as silent. He preferred the quiet to speech, because their voices echoed through the emptiness and carved out a hollow place in his stomach. 

"What do you think it is?" Aya apparently didn't agree.

"I don't know. At first I thought it was the village. But we've been walking for," he shaded his eyes and lifted them to the sky, "half the day already and there still isn't anything. I thought we'd see or hear something once we got out of the area of the village."

"But we haven't." Aya pressed on, seemingly determined to fill the emptiness with her voice. Inuken groaned in his mind, but humored her because he knew she must be scared out of her head. 

"No, we haven't."

They spent the rest of the day in idle chitchat that remained peppered with the uneasiness lent by the empty forest. The echo of their words grated at Inuken's nerves but he kept it down for Aya's sake. The further they went without any sounds other than their own voices the more talkative Aya became until finally, as the sun sank below the line of the horizon, she stopped talking. Inuken settled his pack down and untied the bedroll from her back, then allowed her to do the same for him. As they set up camp for the night, Inuken watched Aya but listened to the forest. The disappearing sun had left a shadow in his heart, a thick coat of warning that made him pay close attention to the world around himself and his companion. So far he heard only more of the same nothing. 

"Aya-san," he finally said, shifting to his worry for her, "are you all right? You haven't said anything in a while."

"I'm scared."

"I know. So am I—"

"Don't lie!" Aya whirled on him, her eyes wavering with her fear as well as angry tears. "You're NOT scared. You're enjoying this, you're LOVING it!"

Inuken stepped away from her. Aya glared at him, her accusation burning as surely in her eyes as it did in his ears. He stuttered, trying to force out a denial he knew she did not deserve.

"T-That's n-n-not true . . ."

"Yes it is and you know it is! You've been itching to get out on your own ever since we got here!" Her tears flowed freely over her cheeks, broken from their home by her anger towards him. "I saw you every time you thought I wasn't looking as you stared out at this forest. I saw how badly you wanted to ditch me and explore by yourself. You're so excited to be here you can hardly breathe!"

A twig broke in the shadows.

"Why didn't I just-"

Aya had to quiet when Inuken lunged forward and knocked her down, hand over her mouth. He held her against his chest tightly, other arm wrapped around her arms and one leg draped over her legs so she couldn't kick. He felt her shaking, afraid, but kept still, listening for another sound in the otherwise silent forest. He heard something scraping against wood, low hissing, and the slightest pattering of what sounded like hundreds of feet on the forest floor. When he was sure of the distance between whatever lurked out there and their camp, Inuken whispered in Aya's ear.

"There's something there. Whatever they are, they've surrounded us. They don't sound friendly."

Aya froze, then began shaking more than before. Inuken realized that at first she was afraid of him and his actions, but had at least known him and known how to deal with him had he been planning something insidious. The lurkers were not visible; she knew nothing about them or how to stop them. 

"We have to get out of here." He kept his voice to the lowest whisper possible. "We can't stop to pack our stuff. We'll have to head back towards the village. We won't make it there, but it's the only place we know. It could be the closest place for hundreds of miles." Inuken paused to listen. Underneath the shallow breaths of his companion, the hissing and scraping drew closer. "I'm going to move away from you slowly. When I signal, we run together, okay?" Aya nodded frantically. 

Slowly, so as to not draw more attention than they needed, Inuken lived up to his word and disengaged from Aya, leaving her alone save for his hand on hers. That he kept and squeezed to reassure her. He listened and watched. Every moment the sunlight faded the sounds grew, indicating a large group of the unknown lurkers gathering in the shadow of secrecy. Inuken growled low in his throat without warning, choking the sound off when he realized what he was doing. He glanced quickly at Aya and was relieved to find that she didn't seem to have heard him.

A scuttle sounded from above, and a small shower of leaves came down. Inuken squeezed Aya's hand.

"Move! Now!"

He shot upwards and forwards, dragging the girl behind him as her thinner, less muscular legs struggled to keep up with his trained pace. For the first time in his life Inuken thanked his coach for the endless hours of running laps, if only in his mind. Though Aya kept him from running at his full speed, he knew he still could run faster than most people. 

But he wasn't running from people. 

Something fell from a tree in front of him. Inuken jolted to a stop, automatically dropping to a crouch at the sight of an enemy. Though the danger radiated from every corner of the darkness, Inuken had to admit that Aya had been right; he loved the danger and craved confrontation with this strange foe. Another growl rose from the same place as before, the fourth of his heritage he'd never believed in until three days ago. 

Then Aya yelped as she ran into him and tripped over his form. She sprawled before him unceremoniously, her skirt flying up and revealing the hearts on her white underwear. Inuken blinked, his animal instincts dulled by the unexpected sight. He felt a blush spread over his cheeks as Aya sat up and pulled her skirt down, face as red as her hair. 

Something skittered towards her.

"Aya-san, look out!" The danger-lover in him flared again and he jumped forward, pushing the girl to the side and out of the way of the thing. With her out of his way and the creature closer, Inuken recognized a beast like the one he'd destroyed outside the well house. _It must have come through . . . but the well was sealed!_

Inuken heard more skittering and hissing from the surrounding veil of darkness. If there were more of these things, especially as many as his ears told him there were, he couldn't fight them all even if he had a weapon, which he didn't. He would be swamped in moments, and Aya faster than that. Inuken didn't fight to hold back the next growl that escaped his throat. They may not last long, but there was nothing else to do but fight and better to be killed fighting than go quietly. 

The nearest creature, the only visible one, hissed at him in what Inuken imagined must be glee at finding such easy and idiotic prey. Echoing hisses oozed from the trees around him. 

"Alright," he murmured to himself, "if this is what you were born to do, to die now, then so be it." He felt the inkling of a grin tug at his mouth. The next words he shouted for the world to hear. "BUT I'M NOT PLANNING TO DIE TONIGHT!"

The first went down easily, as had the one outside the well. At the touch of Inuken's fist it exploded into purple light and white sparkles. A chorus of angry hissing resounded and more creatures came out from hiding. More went down in flashes of purple and white, but the more that came at him the fewer Inuken was able to kill. Though small and ugly, the things were smart enough to know that if they kept coming in a wave their sheer numbers would eventually overwhelm their attacker. Inuken felt the sharp jab and scrape of claws against his flesh and only growled in return. _I'm not planning to die tonight. I'm not planning to die tonight. I'm not planning to die tonight . . ._

Then another shadow emerged from the blackness. This was taller, not a creature but a man. He moved swiftly and in the flurry of battle Inuken couldn't make out his features. The part-youkai did, however, see that the stranger carried a staff, which he used as a weapon. The creatures vanished when touched by the staff, though not in the flashy manner they did when touched by Inuken. 

Relieved to have even this unknown ally, Inuken resumed his fighting and listened for Aya. She was crying. He couldn't turn around to see her, but at least she was alive. As she cried she made frightened grunting sounds, as though swinging something. Hopefully a weapon of some sort. 

The stranger cut a path through the things towards Inuken, though not without damage to himself. Inuken saw a rip in the man's robes at the right shoulder, though he moved as though he didn't feel it. 

"Keep behind me," the man said as he approached Inuken, lifting one hand. Inuken saw that it was wrapped in dark violet material and a string of beads. As he turned away from Inuken the stranger unwound the beads. "Air Rip!"

Shrieks, a thousands times more frightening than their threatening hisses, tore from the creatures as they began to scuttle away. Most, however, didn't make it. As Inuken watched he saw a score of creatures lifted from the ground in some sort of whirlwind and dragged through the air towards the stranger's outstretched hand. But he didn't grab them. They simply disappeared. 

The battle ended abruptly. One moment there were creatures crawling over every inch of the forest, the next they were gone, either sucked into the 'Air Rip' or fled. Inuken found himself staring up at the face of the stranger in awe.

A Buddhist monk stared back at him, handsome but aged, with streaks of white hair dignifying the black. Dark eyes gazed at Inuken soberly, and he felt as though his entire life could be read in seconds by those eyes. The monk held out a hand to help Inuken stand, and he noticed the beads were back in place over the wrapping. Inuken took the monk's hand and stood.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Miroku. Welcome home, Inuken."

End Chapter Two. 


	4. Chapter Three: La Vérité de Monstres

****

Authors Notes: Whee!! Don't have much to say, just that a scene is longer and this chapter is longer because of the greatest beta in the world, Pleiades-sama. You should all bow down and worship her. ;o) Enjoy this chapter.

****

Thankies: Lots of people. Don't feel like naming them all.

**__**

I'm wondering when the world went insane. Oh yeah. Day 1. Thanks, Daniel.

****

Disclaimers: Inuyasha doesn't belong to me, dammit! He belongs to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Inuken, however, DOES belong to me! HAHA!

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapter Three - La Vérité de Monstres

Inuken watched the monk Miroku over the leaping flames of a campfire. Around them milled a nomadic village, people who lived in the forest, moving from place to place in order to avoid the creatures. Inuken noticed wards place on every tree as they came in, no doubt put there by Miroku. The monk explained to them that this was so a campsite could remain safe for a night, but they still had to move constantly to keep their position secret, among other reasons. 

Inuken waited for the monk to speak. He'd promised to tell them as much as he could once they reached the campsite, but had yet to say anything. He sat across from Inuken and Aya, face alternating between darkness and light as he stoked the fire, and the monk's dark eyes remained fixated on something within the flames. Inuken sighed and glanced at Aya. She was watching Miroku, clutching her soup bowl in both hands. Inuken had long finished his own and the bowl rested between his feet. What he wanted now was answers, not more food. 

Finally Miroku set down the large stick he used to poke the fire and looked up at his guests.

"I must say it is a bit surprising to see you here, Inuken." The man shook his head. "Kagome-sama is a very powerful miko and she sealed that well tight on both sides. None of us ever expected to see you again."

Inuken just shrugged.

"Right." Miroku smiled. "I promised to tell you the truth, didn't I?" He smiled a bit as Inuken and Aya both leaned forward. "The truth is I don't know much. I can only tell you what happened." The smile faded, leaving a troubled frown. "But I can tell you that you won't like what I'm going to say.

"Inuken, you were three years old, nearly four, when the creatures first began to attack. As you can see, they only attack at night; we're safe during the day. At first they were more like raiders, sneaking into grain stores. We thought we were being infiltrated by unusually bold kitsune of the non-youkai variety." Miroku shook his head. "We were wrong. Not long after your fourth birthday the attacks began in earnest. Instead of raiding grain and other food, the creatures began attacking people. I put up wards, but they only worked one night at a time; apparently the energy the creatures give off burns out ofuda very quickly. That's why we migrate now. I replaced the ofuda every day, but eventually I got tired and began missing vital places. Even Kagome-sama's wards couldn't last more than a night. That was, of course, when she would leave you in order to put them up. Kagome-sama was very devoted to the village, but devoted even more to her family. You and your father were highest in her priorities." The monk sighed and placed his face in his free hand for a moment. Inuken fidgeted, but managed to keep himself silent until Miroku decided to continue.

"One night I was especially careless. Several creatures came into the village. Inuyasha was injured fighting them and among the chaos that ensued, Kagome-sama ran away with you. No one knew where she was going until she came back. Inuyasha was so angry, even through his pain, that he didn't speak to her for days. Kagome-sama didn't back down, though, and in the end your father had to admit that she probably did the right thing." A series of odd expressions passed over the monk's face. Inuken found he didn't know what to expect next and he wasn't patient enough to wait for Miroku to speak this time.

"Are they here? My mother and father?"

Miroku's head jerked up. The two peered at each other across the fire, flames and shadows fighting for dominance. 

"Inuken . . . I'm sorry, no. About a year after Kagome-sama took you to the future, Inuyasha vanished. Kagome-sama left not long after that to look for him."

Inuken stared at Miroku for a moment. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, presumably Aya's, but he shook it off and stood. He glared down at the monk over the fire, his hands clenched into tight fists. 

"What do you mean, 'vanished'?"

"I mean he disappeared without a trace. Gone. Kagome-sama couldn't sense him at all, and she could always sense him, even before they were married." Miroku gave what Inuken suspected he thought was a sympathetic look. "We don't know if he's dead or alive. All we know is that for the past thirteen years we've had to make a life here on our own without Inuyasha or our miko to protect us.

"And I don't trust myself to keep the villagers safe."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Long into the night Inuken sat up, thinking. He had thought that hearing his story from someone else's perspective, even if not from one of his parents, that hearing the gaps, would make him feel better. He had thought that at this moment, having heard the past, he would be satisfied.

But he wasn't. 

No, he wasn't satisfied, because Miroku only knew the story from his own point of view, which was very limited, and Inuken could practically smell the guilt oozing from the monk's robes. He couldn't give a very accurate or objective picture of what had really happened while under the influence of so powerful an emotion. Inuken needed to hear it from a better perspective, a closer perspective. He needed one of his parents. Inuken needed, and wanted, his mother. 

His eyes searched out the brightest star in the sky, the only one visible through the thick blanket of dark treetops. He imagined a young girl doing the same many, many years ago. His mother must have felt this same loneliness, being so far away from everything she'd grown up around and everyone she'd ever known. This world was a strange and uninviting one to someone from the 21st century, even someone who felt a kinship with this place. Inuken certainly missed indoor plumbing. Microwaves and pizza too.

Good thing the well was two-way.

As the sun peeked above the horizon, Inuken had his chin resting on his arms and Aya came up behind him. She settled into the ground at his side, violet eyes gazing off into the depths of the forest around them. They sat like this for several moments as the sun rose higher into the sky, orange fading into yellow, and blue moving in on the edges of sunrise. Around them rose the sounds of silence; the hardly audible crackle of the dying fires, someone rolling over under their blankets, and somewhere under the cover of green a small animal causing a soft rustle. 

"Are you going to leave?"

Inuken blinked at the unexpected question and looked at her fully.

"Huh?"

She rested her elbow on her knee and her chin in her elbow, still not looking at him. 

"Are you going to leave? You came here searching for your parents and they're not here. I guess you're going to go looking for them."

"I . . . thought of that." Inuken sighed and shrugged. "But I can't. Not now, anyway. I can't just leave these people. They need help of some sort." He snorted and shook his head. "And that monk obviously isn't any help at all. He wallows in his own guilt so much I'm surprised he can still function, let alone put up protective ofuda all by himself."

"He's a good man," Aya said slowly, her head lifting from its resting place. "He's been carrying this burden by himself for nearly fourteen years. It's amazing that he hasn't snapped yet." She sighed. "My onii-san is the same way. He takes a lot of responsibility on his shoulders and doesn't let his friends help him." Aya flopped her head sideways so that she looked upwards at him through her dark lashes. "I feel guilty sometimes because I know he started acting that way after . . . my accident." 

"You couldn't help what happened," he told her, though he didn't know exactly what had happened, only that Aya had been in a coma. "It was his choice to become that way."

She shrugged.

"I know that here," she pointed to her head, "but I have trouble with the concept here." Her hand lowered to her heart. "I love Ran very much and I hate that he's been pushing people away for so long that he can't seem to let them in even now that I'm well." 

Inuken saw her eyes begin to shimmer only a second before she turned to face away from him. He swallowed, stomach tightening and shrinking to a pea somewhere in the middle of his torso. As a guy, Inuken knew he should be strong and comforting, give her a hug and whisper encouraging words or something along those lines. All he found himself able to do, however, was look at the ground or up at the sky and anywhere or at anything rather than Aya. He hated it when girls cried. Even his obaa-san could only expect him to flee when she cried. 

He heard a sniffle, saw her arm move across her face, and then her eyes blinking as she faced him again. She smiled at him, the line of her mouth wavering a bit.

"It's okay now, Inuken-san, the tears have stopped." Her smile widened into a grin when he tried to deny being flustered and fought back the flush of embarrassment. She taunted him for several minutes, until he threatened to feed her to one of the creatures. Aya stuck her tongue out at him for that one, but soon her expression became heavy with thought. Inuken regretted mentioning the things and ruining the happy mood. Then Aya fixed her violet eyes on him, narrowed slightly, speculative eyes. "You glow, you know that, Inuken-san?"

"I—what?" The abrupt change in subject took him off guard. 

Aya stood, something odd overcoming her face, and reached to pull him up with her. 

"I've got an idea. Come on, I've got to ask Miroku-san something." She tugged so insistently at his arm that Inuken decided it would be prudent to rise if only to keep his limbs intact. He dusted off the back of his pants as they walked back to the crowd of people huddled around three separate fires. Off to the side another group was busy collecting wood for a fourth blaze and it was with this group they found the monk. Miroku looked up as they approached. He didn't have time to say anything; Aya spoke as soon as she was within earshot.

"Does Inuken-san carry his mother's spiritual power?"

Miroku looked as flabbergasted as Inuken felt. He'd never considered what the purple light or the fact that he could blow up little creatures meant, certainly not the possibility that he had inherited any special powers from his mother. Inuken actually had assumed any power he had inherited would have come from his father. However, as Miroku absorbed the question, he turned his black eyes on the boy in question and narrowed them much the same way Aya had only moments before. Ever so slowly, he began to nod. 

"Yes, actually, he does. I should have realized it from the moment I saw him fighting the creatures." The monk gave Inuken another look over and his eyes flew open in surprise. "I'd say he's at least as powerful as Kagome-sama, if not more."

"Miroku-san, you told us that you and Kagome-sama took turns putting protective charms around the village. Did either of you ever try a shield?"

Miroku nodded.

"Yes, but the shields lasted about as long as the ofuda, and since shields take more personal energy we decided it would be more prudent to continue with ofuda."

"Did you ever consider a joint shield between the two of you?"

Miroku's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. He stood quietly, considering the question and the idea. Then, slowly, he began shaking his head. 

"No, we didn't, but it wouldn't have worked anyway. We would have had to stay side-by-side putting energy into the shield, never moving, and eventually we both would have been exhausted and the shield would have collapsed." Miroku looked on them with sorrow-filled eyes, but Inuken had the suspicion the sorrow was mainly for himself. "Such a shared shield would have lasted only as long as both of us. The moment one of us gave out from exhaustion it would have all come down."

Aya, however, apparently was not so willing to give up on the idea. She bit her lip and paced back and forth between Miroku and Inuken, eyes intent not on the ground but on whatever idea percolated inside that red head. Miroku and Inuken looked at each other and shrugged. Inuken had no idea what Aya was up to, or what made her think she could solve a problem that hadn't been solved in almost fourteen years. Finally the girl stopped, turned to Miroku, and smiled.

"What if you and another person with spiritual powers were to erect a joint shield, raise it to the appropriate power level, then anchor it to something else?"

"Anchor it . . . to something else?" Miroku gave her a blank expression. 

"Like a stone or a tree. Something big, something sturdy and capable of holding the anchor. Maybe two of them, or one of each. Something inside the sphere of the shield, so the creatures can't get to it." Her eyes flashed as she became excited over her idea. "I know shields can be tuned to allow only certain people through, right?" Miroku nodded. "So do the same to these. Tune them to allow anyone with only innocent intent through and block anyone or anything with evil intent."

"I-I could do that." Miroku passed a nervous hand through his bangs and over the hair pulled back into the short ponytail. "But who's going to be the second person?"

Aya sighed, rolled her eyes, and pointed to Inuken.

"WHAT?!?" Inuken shouted at the same time Miroku nearly choked. 

"Aya-san, he may have the power but he hasn't been trained in its use! He's about as useful as a blade of grass!"

"Hey!" 

"Sorry, Inuken, but it's true and you know it."

"Then train him." Aya gave the monk a hard, determined glare.

"Aya-san," Miroku put his hands forward in a desperate gesture, "it simply isn't that easy. Training takes years. It's not something that can be done over night."

"Don't teach him everything, at least not yet." The girl stubbornly pressed on, ignoring all protests in her way. "Teach him the basics, the things that will help him keep minimal control, then teach him how to build a shield and then how to build a shield with another person. Then teach him how to anchor that shield to something else."

"How can I teach him to anchor a shield into something else when I don't even know how?" Miroku practically shouted the question at her, throwing his hands into the air. "Aya-san, that's something that I've never heard of before. I think it's possible, but I'm not certain. As far as I know I'm going to be the first person to try. I have to work it out before I can teach Inuken anything."

"Good," she said, smiling at the monk, assured somehow by his words of victory. "You go teach yourself and Inuken-san and I will keep ourselves busy helping the villagers until you're ready." With that she grabbed Inuken by the arm again and dragged him away from Miroku, whose mouth hung plainly open.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

It took Miroku several explosions, false starts, and a week and a half to figure out how to anchor a shield into something other than himself. When he finally did, however, he left it there, unattended, for three days before taking it down, when it was still at full power. He gave Aya a great hug for the idea, and Inuken suspected he must have groped her, otherwise she wouldn't have slapped him as she did. No matter; Miroku's grin didn't falter. 

After that came a grueling two week course in control for Inuken, during which he came close to killing Miroku at least twice before he finally understood what the hell the monk was talking about. Once understanding came, the rest did as well, and with surprising ease. Inuken found he could ground and center anytime he simply wanted to feel stable, which was often in this strange and primitive world. Shields were good for when one merely wanted some privacy, though erecting them for that purpose tended to annoy his teacher. After being locked away from Inuken during lessons three times, Miroku forbade Inuken from making shields for anything other than protective purposes.

"But it IS for protective purposes! I'm protecting myself from you!"

Miroku did not enjoy that comment.

Inuken didn't see much of Aya during this time, but when he did she was helping the villagers with some task or other. She looked a bit harried; her hair still twisted into double braids, but had haphazard strands of fire red fluttering free of the twists more often than not. Her clothing was very wrinkled. She made sure she washed their clothing every night and cursed the unavailability of an iron. The one time he'd dared to laugh at her muttering, she threw a rock at him. 

Between lessons, meals, fighting the creatures, and watching Aya, the days passed fairly quickly without a chance to ponder what might be happening in his own time. Before long three weeks had gone by and the time to try the planned double shield had arrived. Inuken found his stomach roiling.

"Uh . . . I don't feel so good. Maybe we shouldn't do this today."

"Nonsense," Miroku said a bit too cheerfully for his pupil's liking, "today's the perfect day to try! It's sunny, no clouds, not a chance of the weather interfering with our concentration."

They were in a small clearing specifically chosen for this experiment. Miroku and Aya had agreed that they should attempt a test shield first before trying to shield the forest's hidden community. So as the sun shone merrily down on the two of them and their experiment, Inuken swallowed down fear, bile, and the urge to scream.

Miroku sat in the middle of the clearing and closed his eyes, settling into the appropriate meditation and trance position necessary for this type of working. Inuken felt, with the little training he'd received, the settling of the energy currents around him as the monk grounded and centered. That moment became the point of no return and Inuken sat beside his teacher, going through the process as Miroku taught him. He felt the ground beneath him almost as though it rose up to meet him, felt the stability in its calm and strength. From that starting point Inuken found the place inside of him that called for order, the most constant part of himself, and made himself one with it. 

As he merged with his center, Inuken felt the energy around him with more clarity and depth. He felt the steady pressure of the shields beside him, he felt that energy seeking out his own and knew that Miroku had begun the melding process. Inuken felt out the shell around himself, the permanent shields Miroku had helped him raise in their first few lessons together. He pushed them towards Miroku and concentrated the way he was told in making the energy "soft", able to meld with a different set of energies. Getting this right was one of the most important steps; if he made his shields too soft, Miroku's would bash his down, if he didn't make them soft enough then the opposite would happen. For a moment Inuken thought this would happen. Then he softened his shield energy a bit more and they fell into Miroku's with a suddenness that nearly knocked Inuken over. From two shields came one.

Once the single shield was made they had to raise the energy level to a point appropriate for the protection of people and animals from the creatures. If they could get the energy level that high, anchor it into the two supports chosen and leave it there for three days without it faltering, then they would know they'd gained success. 

Of course, the entire process would leave them of absolutely no use to anyone save as perhaps a doorstop. 

Inuken felt the drain nearly immediately; a single shield between two was more difficult to maintain than one's own personal shields. Personal shields, he'd quickly learned, could be erected and then maintained on a purely subconscious level since self-protection was an instinct. Creating a shield to protect something else, however, stemmed from the desire to do something outside the self, and therefore utilized more than a subconscious effort. Raising the energy of that shield, even when it was shared between two people, only drained the creators further.

Inuken fed power from himself and the ground beneath him through the link from himself to the shields. He felt like yawning. Only strong will kept him from imagining how tired he would be after he and Miroku created a permanent joint shield big enough and strong enough to protect the villagers' settlement.

Finally he got the mental signal from Miroku that the shield would sufficiently protect. This meant it was time to cut the link between himself and the shield, then link it to his chosen anchor. Unlike Miroku, who chose a rock, Inuken had chosen a tree because the energy level in a tree should be enough to feed the shield should something go wrong.

Inuken reached with his so far clumsy mental touch and slowly, as carefully as possible, cut the thin string of energy between himself and the shield. When he felt it separate, he clung desperately to the string so it wouldn't float off on its own or dissipate. Achingly slowly, feeling more tired by the moment, Inuken moved the tendril of energy towards his tree. He felt out the aura surrounding the plant, weaker than a human's or an animal's, and tied the energy thread into it. A moment passed as he waited to see if the tree would reject the link or not, and when nothing happened, Inuken fell out of his trance with a whoosh and a yawn. 

"Miroku-san, I—"

Miroku stopped him by clapping his hand on the boy's back.

"Inuken, we did it. Do you understand? Whether this shield holds against the creatures for three days or not, we've done something no one else has ever done." Excitement made the older monk's face melt into youth and glow with a happiness Miroku had lacked for as long as Inuken had been around and probably longer. "Even if it doesn't hold, it's still quite amazing."

Inuken couldn't help it; Miroku's smile was infectious. 

End Chapter Three.


	5. Chapter Four: Le Voyage Qui Commence

****

Authors Notes: You know, it's kinda strange that Inuyasha's, and therefore Inuken's, eyes are slitted like a cat's eyes but they're Inu youkai. ::shrugs:: Just an observation. I know, I know, I'm pumping out chapters faster than you people can keep up! Haha!

****

Thankies: Pleiades-sama, the best beta reader in the world, the one who's keeping AQD at the level of excellence it is at… it's ALL her doing, none of mine! Fuuzaki-chan, a great friend and strong person. ;o) Tensei-chan, another great friend and strong person. You know, Tensei-chan, the chopping block is satisfying, but not NEARLY as satisfying as torture. Satan's Mistress, You've hidden that katana, ne? If I can't, she can't!! ::sets some invincible undead bishounen guards::

****

Disclaimers: Okies, Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Aya and all Weiss Kruz related characters belong to whoever created that series. Inuken, Toushiko, Rei, and all the other OCs that will pop up, and there WILL be more, I promise, belong to me. ME! MINE!! ::growl::

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapitre Quatre - Le Voyage Qui Commence

Inuken sat beside the bed, holding the wrinkled hand gently. The doctors, who had been shocked at his sudden arrival after having vanished weeks ago, told him that she had not so much as flicked an eyelash while he was gone. Still, he felt it necessary to explain himself.

"Obaa-san, gomen ne. I haven't been around, I know, but it was for a really good reason." He leaned in as though to share some conspiracy with her. "The well is open again, Obaa-san. Aya-san and I went through. I met the monk, Miroku-san. He's okay. He's teaching me to control the spiritual power I inherited from Okaa-san. I can make a shield. I already have, in fact. Miroku-san and I put up a shield around . . . well, it's complicated. But it's working, the shield is holding, so that means I'm going to be looking for Okaa-san and Otou-san. T-They're missing." He paused, unsure of how much more he should say about his mother and father. After all, Okaa-san was her daughter, and if his grandmother could hear him, he didn't want to frighten her. "I just wanted you to know I haven't forgotten you."

"That's good to hear."

Inuken looked up to see Souta-ojisan standing in the doorway, arms crossed. The man frowned; he wasn't happy. 

"How much did you hear?" Inuken asked.

"Not much. Just enough to know that you're reaching for excuses." Souta walked inside the room and closed the door behind him. Once cut off from prying ears, Inuken's uncle whirled. "Where the HELL have you been, Inuken? If you and that girl ran off to play house, you picked a damn poor time for it!" Souta paused and Inuken opened his mouth to speak, but his uncle cut him off. "You've never been this irresponsible before. You've always had a good head on your shoulders, like Kagome-neechan. Where did all your sense go?" Souta made a growl so close to that of a dog that Inuken jumped, certain for a moment that he was facing a youkai, not a human. "This stunt was something your okaa-san would never have done."

"Actually, she did."

Souta blinked.

"Okaa-san did leave once, for days, without explanation. That's what Obaa-san said." Inuken looked straight up into his uncle's eyes. "Obaa-san told me the stories over and over again, Oji-san. You heard, but you would never comment one way or another."

Souta actually paled. The older man sat down in the only other chair in the room, as ugly a green as its partner.

"I didn't think there was reason to tell you anything."

"Why?" Inuken managed to keep his voice low, without anger. "Because the stories weren't true, or because you thought the well would be closed forever and there was no point?"

"Kagome-neechan was a skilled and very well-trained miko." Souta leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his legs. He sighed as his head hung. "The well _should_ have stayed closed forever." His eyes rose to meet his nephew's. "I'm assuming by the course of this conversation that it didn't." 

Inuken nodded.

"Hell, I guess Mama was right." Souta looked at the frail, ghost-like form of his mother. "She always believed Kagome-neechan would never really leave you. Mama always felt she'd come back."

"Okaa-san is missing."

Well, that certainly caught Oji-san's attention. Inuken's uncle nearly fell from his chair at that revelation, skin even paler than before. Inuken waited for Souta to pick his jaw up from the floor and compose himself, though what the young half-hanyou really wanted to do was demand answers, help, a plan, anything. 

"Okay," Souta finally managed to say, "Okay. Kagome-neechan is missing. What about Inuyasha?"

"Missing. That's why I'm going. To search for them."

Souta just stared at him. Perhaps he had trouble understanding the concept of searching, but somehow Inuken didn't think that was the problem. He turned his gaze back to Obaa-san's face as he allowed his uncle to think everything through. It must be very difficult to find out one's nephew has time traveled and one's sister and brother-in-law were missing all in one day. And poor Obaa-san, missing all the action and the fun. Inuken allowed himself a small smile as he thought of how she would insist on packing his lunch, as she had once done for his mother when she went through the well.

"So, you're just going to go searching all over the Sengoku Jidai for two people?"

"That's pretty much the plan, yeah."

"How stupid is that, Inuken? I'm betting Miroku-san, Sango-san, and Shippou-san searched every acre of Japan for them. If they couldn't find them, what makes you think YOU can?"

"Because I'm their son."

Souta exploded from the chair.

"How can you be so calm?!? You're so confusing, you know that? It's been hell trying to figure out my own nephew. One minute you're stomping all over the place in some tantrum, and the next you're as placid as spring."

"I don't recall having thrown a tantrum today—"

"One minute I think about you and how much like Kagome-neechan you are, and the next I'm wondering if there's anything human in you at all! Sometimes you're so much like that damned youkai I can't breathe!"

Silence came in the wake of Souta's exclamation, a silence in which Inuken realized something with hard and malevolent force. His hand automatically let go of Obaa-san's, and he stood, slowly, never taking his eyes off his uncle. Souta, wide-eyed, seemed to understand he'd said something he shouldn't have and backed away from his nephew, eyes dropping to the tiled floor.

"Inuken, I—"

"You don't like Otou-san. Because . . . because he's of youkai blood."

Souta winced.

"It's not that, or not completely."

"Not completely?"

"I liked him at first." Souta ran his hand through his hair, stopping to scratch his scalp nervously. His eyes never left the floor. "I thought he was some sort of hero come to life, but I was a kid. Then I actually began to pay attention to the way he treated Nee-chan." At last Souta pried his gaze from the floor to meet Inuken's golden eyes. "To put it simply, Inuyasha was a jerk. An asshole of the highest order. There were times I almost believed he really did care about her. Then he would order her around like some slave just because she was a girl. He spoke to her like she didn't matter, Inuken, like he hated her for some reason. That, of course, being when he wasn't pushing her off into some battle to get killed." Souta's jawline hardened and he looked away again. "That's probably what happened. They're not missing. He got her killed, hid the body, and ran off."

"You're talking about my otou-san," Inuken growled, clenching his hands into fists. Souta shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

"Before you left, you wouldn't have cared what I said about him."

"That was before. Miroku-san thinks very highly of my otou-san, and I trust him."

The two, young man and older man, stood staring at each other across the hospital bed. Inuken wondered, with new bitterness, if Souta hated him as well for sharing his father's 'tainted' blood. He knew the idea unsettled his uncle at least a little when the other man gritted his teeth and looked away. Inuken's eyes often made people nervous. He'd been told they glowed with golden light when he was angry.

"Don't be surprised if you find Inuyasha running some band of youkai bandits," Souta mumbled, still not looking at his nephew.

"More likely leading a group of people and youkai against whatever's going on." Inuken picked up his bag, which had been packed full of four days worth of provisions and clothes. "I'm going to search for my parents, Souta-ojisan, and see if I can figure out who sent the things Okaa-san was running from the night she brought me here." Calmly, Inuken pulled the bag's strap onto his shoulder. "I've seen them, and they're evil. I can fight them so I will. I don't know when Aya-san and I will be back, but I'll try to stop in at least once every two weeks to check on Obaa-san."

He didn't look at Souta as he walked out the door. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Miroku met them on the past side of the well. He helped them raise their bags and bicycles from the depths, and despite that inconvenience Inuken was glad the monk had told them about his mother's bike. Otherwise they might actually have had to walk. As it was, they rode at a slow pace so that Miroku could keep up. After a while, they actually fell behind as the monk picked up his speed.

Inuken looked at Aya, who was very quiet.

"Aya-san, are you okay?"

"Hai," she said, nodding her head slightly. "Ran wasn't very happy with me, that's all."

"Souta-ojisan wasn't very happy with me, either." Inuken sighed and looked upwards, to the blue sky he couldn't see in the 21st century. "I-I think . . . Aya-san, I think he hates my otou-san for being a hanyou."

Aya blinked, then shrugged.

"It's not really surprising, Inuken-san. There's prejudice in our world for human beings of different races, and we know that here there's prejudice against hanyou for being half-breeds. I suppose we should have expected that the same discrimination would exist in our world in those humans who still believe in youkai."

"Yeah, but . . ." Inuken silenced, not wanting to express his next thought aloud. Saying it, hearing the sound of the words in the air, would make it all the more worrisome, something more tangible. Aya knew, however, what was on his mind.

"I don't think he really hates _you_. After all, even if it doesn't matter, you're more human than your otou-san. Other than your eyes and ears, you pass for completely human, and your ears are usually hidden by your hair. Your eyes can just be taken as being really cool." She grinned.

Inuken thought about his golden, cat-like slitted eyes, and the ears that pointed slightly at the tips. He sighed, and decided to show her the one other thing that separated him from her.

"There's also these," he said, and fully bared his teeth, showing the two pointed fangs normally hidden beneath his upper lip. Aya's eyes and mouth went wide. Her bicycle swerved, ran off the path, and as it rolled uncontrolled down a slight ditch she leaned too far to the right and tumbled to the ground. Miroku turned at the sound and ran beside Inuken to help her. 

"Are you alright, Aya-san?" Miroku asked as he helped her stand.

"I'd be better if you wouldn't grope me!"

The monk had the decency to blush just the slightest.

"Gomen ne, old habit."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Inuken stepped away from her when she was steady, unsure of how close to her she would want him. He found himself unable to look at her, ashamed of the way he'd chosen to reveal such a startling and downright frightening secret. He knew she'd be alarmed by his fangs, so why the hell didn't he wait until they were stopped and safe to show her? Damn!

"What happened?" Miroku passed a glance between the two of them, a stern thing that caused Inuken to cower. Though the monk had no children, he sure could act the father when he chose.

"Nothing," Aya said before Inuken could tell the truth, "Inuken-san just said something that surprised me."

Miroku glanced between them again, his expression showing that he didn't buy it, not at all. Inuken thought Miroku would press the issue until the monk sighed, shook his head, and started back towards the path. Inuken thought he heard snatches of mumbling as Miroku walked away, but he couldn't make out anything said, so he turned to Aya.

"You lied to him."

"I thought you'd appreciate it more than if I told him the truth." She smiled as she picked her bike up from the ground. "He may be an awesome monk, but he's still an old man. He wouldn't really be angry with you, but he'd probably yell at you through some adult urge to correct the mistakes of the young." 

"Can you imagine what Miroku-san would do if he heard you calling him an old man?"

They laughed together, rolling their bikes up the hill and back to the dirt road. Miroku waited for them, arms crossed.

"About time you two decided to return. In case you both have forgotten, we do not have all the time in the world. Inuken and I must return here at regular intervals in order to recharge the shield."

"Yes, yes, I kn—" Inuken stopped. "Wait, you're coming with us?"

"Of course I am." Miroku's hard exterior melted, showing the concern beneath his eyes. "Kagome-sama and Inuyasha are my friends as well as your parents. I would have gone searching a long time ago if not for my responsibility to the villagers." 

"Didn't anyone else search?" Inuken dodged a rock in the path so he wouldn't be the next to go hurtling to the ground. "I mean," he said, thinking of what Souta-ojisan had asked, "Shippou-san and Sango-san were friends too, ne? Didn't they search?"

"Yes," Miroku replied, his eyes giving off a strange flicker at the mention of Sango. "They searched. They didn't find anything. Don't be discouraged," he amended, seeing Inuken's shoulders slump. "They were also not able to get passage into the stronghold of the Inu Youkai. Which is the first place I suggest we go." He paused. "Well, the second place."

"Where are we going first?" Aya watched the monk carefully, looking as curious as Inuken felt. Where could Miroku, nearly a hermit for thirteen years, want them to go before the stronghold of his father's people?

"We're going to pick up an ally, that's all." Miroku refused to say more. Inuken glanced to Aya, who shrugged. It wasn't all that important. They'd find out eventually. The important thing before finding this person would be checking the shield one last time and saying goodbye to the villagers. Inuken had no doubts the people would need to be assured again of their safety in the absence of their monk. Without Inuken and Miroku they would have to stay in the current camp, for they couldn't move the shield themselves. The group had become so used to being nomadic, to safety coming only with never-ceasing movement, that staying in one place made them nervous. Inuken had seen this anxiety before he and Aya made the trip back through the well, and now that Miroku revealed his plans to accompany them on the search Inuken knew there would be opposition. 

He was right.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

To the North, in the mountains, stood a fortress. The walls were high and difficult to climb. Anyone who tried would find the guards even more difficult to pass. Every six feet around the entire length of the wall stood an armored soldier, weapon in hand. The shifts changed every eight hours, keeping the guardsmen fresh and rested. Inside the wall lived a community, and not a small one. People milled in a sea of marketing, haggling, illnesses and health. Nothing out of the ordinary could be seen, no matter which way one might look.

Except, perhaps, if one went to see the local fortune-teller.

Toushiko saw what no one else could see, of the Future, the Past, and most importantly, the Present. Her cards helped her gain a living in the absence of family, but they were merely tools. Her real power stemmed from the Sight, from where she gained her name. Snatches of things to come passed in a constant stream through her mind, mixed with things that had been and things that were only now coming to be. Often she had trouble deciphering the visions, what they meant or when they happened. Sometimes she knew the Past only because she recognized the scene; Toushiko knew details of folk stories that her people's storytellers would kill to know. She kept quiet. 

Keeping quiet kept her alive, not only from the more vicious storytellers, but from others who did not as yet know she Saw them. One of those . . . people . . . currently sat across from her at the table she kept in her market tent. Unlike the other hagglers, she did not sell a tangible product. She sold the Future.

"You search for great things," she said, keeping golden eyes carefully trained on the thing sitting across from her. She did not need to look to See the Power card on the table. The card of Power often represented a person seeking domination above all things; such a person nearly always came with a black soul. "You think to find them here, ne?"

The creature, hiding beneath a mask of golden eyes and silver hair to match her own, grinned, revealing the glittering fangs beneath.

"Doesn't everyone search for great things?"

Toushiko nodded, as though only absently listening to him. Her hand sought out the card stack and turned over a second card. This time she allowed her eyes to drop, letting him believe she felt as comfortable in his presence as all the others. Battle stared back at her, teeth and claws and swords winking with malicious glee from the face of the second card.

"There is a fight ahead of you, a battle fierce and without rules." Toushiko paused as images flashed, of blood and carnage, and a young man with the Clan's eyes but hair black like night. "Is this battle the great thing you seek, or the spoils afterwards?"

"Spoils, of course, my lady." The thing-in-a-man's body leaned closer, the grin wider and spreading to the otherwise dead eyes. "There's nothing great or glorious about battle itself, only what one gains in the winning of one."

"One does not always win," Toushiko replied, though the saying of the words caused a ripple to pass through her; anticipation of the last card and fear of what she would have to tell him. She kept her eyes lowered to hide the apprehension in her gaze and turned over the third card. It was as she feared. The Black Inu growled up at her, eyes flashing, teeth stained red, claws planted on the ground over a black-handled scythe.

"What is it, my lady?" asked the thing when Toushiko remained silent. She swallowed, lifting her gaze to him, careful to drop a mask of indifference over her expression.

"For you, at least, there is nothing to be gained from this battle." Other fortune-tellers had been killed for saying less than what she had to say. "There is only death waiting for you at the end of your quest."

He, it, stared at her for too long; the study his eyes made of her form had Toushiko trembling inside. His borrowed claws tapped the wooden table slowly, methodically, as he stared and thought. Would he kill her for daring to tell him he would fail?

"You are convincing, my lady, but I know better." He leaned back in his chair, smiling like the cat contented after a meal. Toushiko wanted to sigh, but kept her relief internal. "I won't fail. The thought is inconceivable, and so I know you are a fraud." He stood. "A convincing fraud, but a fraud. Though I suppose we all must make our living in the best way we can, hm?" 

Toushiko would have replied except that at that moment the curtain to her tent folded open, revealing blue eyes and a short mane of tousled auburn curls. A thing that would pass as a woman stepped into the tent, lifting an eyebrow at the cards spread on the table. 

"Akseh," said the second thing in a deceptively soft, lilting tone, "the Lord wishes to speak with you. He waits in the audience room."

Akseh bowed to his counterpart and left the tent without another word to Toushiko, which pleased her. However, the other turned icy eyes on the fortune-teller.

"You tell the future, then?" 

"Sometimes."

"What did you see for Akseh?"

Toushiko did not answer, merely turned the third card, The Black Inu, around so the other could see the teeth and blood clearly. The mask of a face tilted downwards, and though nothing changed on that placid surface, Toushiko Saw something there that showed her the other's anxiety. Though Akseh may have left thinking Toushiko a fraud, this new thing did not so easily dismiss the idea. Toushiko wasn't sure whether this was good or bad.

"This card, I assume, is not a good one?"

"No. The Black Inu is Death. He stalks shadows, waiting for Battle to come, then rages through with teeth and claw, like the scythe of the Grim Reaper the humans speak of, and takes His spoils at His own discretion." Toushiko gathered the three cards back into the deck. "The Black Inu makes no exceptions for age, gender, or rank. No one is safe from Him when He chooses." Toushiko looked up at the other. "Would you like to see for yourself? The price is one bag of rice, or something of equal value."

The other pursed the lips of its host into a curious moue. Then it shook its head, causing the curls to scatter and fall back into a different pattern. 

"No, I deal only in the present, not the future. The future is not yet here, and when it comes it will be only the present." The thing shrugged within its kimono, something not as elaborate as the clothing of a hime, but nicer by far than the dirty clothes of a peasant woman. Whoever this thing served, its master kept it in a proper place. Important, but not too important. "I have a firm belief that the future does not really exist save in the mind."

"The mind is a powerful thing," Toushiko replied, stacking her cards neatly and placing them inside a silk-lined box. "Too many things have come to pass merely because they had power in someone's mind. Often the end of a battle is determined not by who has the most soldiers or weapons, but by which leader's mind is the most powerful." 

"Well," said the other, mouth twisting into a smirk as all pretense of friendliness fell away, "then I suppose it is a good thing the Lord came to reclaim his Clan's home, then. You had been long without a leader at all, let alone one as strong in mind as the Lord."

Toushiko made no reply. She stood as long as she dared, golden eyes staring into icy ones. At last the other shrugged again. The tent flap opened quickly and in just that small moment the other vanished into the market. 

The air cleared instantly, and Toushiko breathed deeply. Behind her opened another flap, to the back room of the tent, where she kept different card decks and other tools of her trade. Rei stepped out; Toushiko insisted he hide there when she Saw Akseh coming. He lifted his hand to stroke one of her silver streamers of hair. Toushiko smiled, and tousled his.

"Why did you wish me to hide?"

"That man is dangerous, Rei. I had to face him, but you did not." Toushiko sighed and wrapped her arms around Rei's slender waist. "I fear I may have to ask you to hide more and more often."

He pushed her back to arm's length, gold staring into gold, and she could nearly Feel the fear from him, though that was not one of her Gifts. 

"You've Seen something, haven't you?" Toushiko tried to turn away, to loosen his grip, but Rei held tighter, his claws nearly puncturing the skin of her arms. "Toushiko, if you've Seen something, I need to know. The Clan needs to know."

"No, Rei, you don't need to know, because what I have Seen I cannot make sense of. There are only fragments, pieces, each more troublesome than the last. I cannot make sense of any of them except to know that there is danger here, and the Black Inu lurks just outside our gates."

Rei held her a moment longer, gazing at her with such intensity she thought for one crazy second that perhaps he could See past her deception. Then he sighed and pulled her close again.

"Alright, but if you begin to make more sense out of your visions, you need to tell someone." Rei squeezed her a bit and Toushiko felt the gentle fall of his lips on her forehead. "Keep yourself safe as well. Not only are you our only Seer, but you are also the only living heir to the throne besides the Lord."

Toushiko smiled.

"There will never come a time when my status as cousin to the Lord will be important. He is healthy, and I am a female. The Clan would rather give power to a child than to me."

"There is no child," Rei reminded her, "the Lord has not remarried since the death of his human bride, and there were no children from that union. You were the last child born to the Family, Toushiko, you know that."

"I know."

Except she knew no such thing. The boy she had Seen, the boy with the eyes of the Clan, he had the feeling of Family, of power. Toushiko knew not who he was, but she did know he was important and that he was coming. The path of his destiny would lead him to the stronghold. Once there, Toushiko knew only that the battle of the card would ensue and Akseh, at least, would die.

"You're tired, Toushiko." Rei smiled and released one of the bindings holding the Seer's silver hair up in the elaborate style she'd put it in. "Close the tent to customers and come to the back with me to rest."

Toushiko laughed even as she walked to the tent flap and tied the material closed.

"I won't get much rest. Shame on you, Rei, to lie to me so." When she turned back to face him, he had moved directly behind her, and his lips sought hers. Inches from her face, Rei grinned, showing his fangs.

"You can rest. After."

For a sweet, short while, the immediate present drowned out her visions.

End Chapter Four


	6. Chapter Five: Le Chasseur de Démons

****

Authors Notes: Ooooh, a nice little plot bunny bit me right after the finishing of this chapter! It's made certain things for AQD MUCH clearer than they were before. So, for all of you who are expecting great things from this story… I believe I just may be able to provide. ;o) Look at modest little ole me. Hehe.

****

Thankies: Pleiades-sama- ::flyingtackleglomps:: I LOVE you so much! You are the goddess of beta-readers! ::bows:: We're not worthy! GET SOME SLEEP! Tensei-chan- Hey, thankies for all of the name help. ::huggles:: And, are you reading this yet?!? Fuuzaki-chan- ::singing:: Little bunny Fuu-Fuu… erm, maybe I shouldn't sing that song…. I wuvles you! Weissangel-san- Oooh, you're so wonderful and talented! I can't WAIT to see the full line! YOU know what I'm talking about, but let's leave it a secret for those who don't know, okies? ::grins and winks::

****

Disclaimers: Oy. Inuyasha and all related characters belong to the great and powerful Takahashi Rumiko-sama, who has no need for a screen. Aya belongs to whoever created Weiss Kruz, and I don't know who that is but it wuddn't me. Inuken, Toushiko, Rei, Akseh, and the other OCs that will pop up—a trust me, they will, OH will they—all belong to me.

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapitre Cinq - Le Chasseur de Démons

As the days rolled on, Inuken found himself looking forward to the journey. He refused to believe that some terrible fate had befallen his parents. More than once he imagined finding them holed up in some mountain hut, confessing with chagrined expressions that they just wanted to be alone. Of course, once told how they were needed, they would come running back to protect the villagers. They would also take Inuken into their arms, hugging him tightly as—

"We're almost there," Miroku said, pointing with his staff. Ahead could be seen the line of a village unprotected by gates or guards. The gentle buzz of activity found Inuken's ears, and he watched the people smile and wave at each other.

"Miroku-san," said Aya, "there aren't any guards or anything."

The monk nodded.

"They don't need guards. They have a Taijiya." 

"A Taijiya?" An exterminator? Of what? Inuken waited for the explanation to come, but Miroku kept walking. The half-hanyou exchanged glances with Aya, but she merely shrugged. "This Taijiya can't possibly be stronger than you or Okaa-san. How can he protect a village all by himself from those things?"

"Mostly because those things don't usually travel this far west, at least not yet." Miroku's face darkened. Inuken thought back to Obaa-san's stories, to the way she had described the monk: gentle, a bright disposition though serious when need be, and a bit lecherous but never to the point of force. This Miroku, though still lecherous, seemed far away from the gentle monk with a sunny disposition. "When they do travel this far it's in small numbers. Only about fifty or so. The Taijiya can easily handle that many alone."

Inuken and Aya glanced at each other again. _Only_ fifty or so? This Taijiya must be something. Aya's eyes suddenly brightened, and she raced her bike up closer to Miroku.

"This Taijiya is the ally, ne? You're bringing us here to pick up the Taijiya!" 

"Hai, though it isn't guaranteed." Miroku's eyes gave the strange waver they had earlier, when Inuken mentioned Sango. "She might not want to travel with . . . us."

"She?" Aya looked thoroughly confused, though Inuken thought he finally knew what was going on. He kept his mouth shut, however, and as they approached the village they were greeted with friendly smiles. Well, except for Miroku.

"Ah, houshi-sama," said one particularly friendly merchant, who, unlike the others, didn't seem to mind talking to Miroku, "today ain't such a good day. She's in a bad mood. Thing got through yesterday, killed some chickens. You know how she gets when anythin' goes wrong."

"Ah," Miroku said, a strange expression in his eyes again, "hai, I know." He led them past the merchant, who shook his head. Inuken caught a muttered phrase about people who loved punishment. He wondered just HOW angry with Miroku she could be. 

The trio approached one of the nicer abodes in the village, a well-kept hut that showed just how well the Taijiya did her job and how much she meant to the villagers. Miroku slowed the closer they came, and just before getting to the door he stopped altogether. The monk turned to Aya and Inuken, but it was the half-hanyou who kept his gaze.

"Inuken, you stay behind me until I give the signal. She heard about you but never saw you. I think," Miroku paused and stared hard into Inuken's face before continuing, "I think it may be you who convinces her to accompany us."

Inuken nodded. Internally, he wondered how he could be the one to convince her when she'd never seen him. She certainly wouldn't be as attached to him as the others, who had known him as a child. Something in the manner of the monk told Inuken that Miroku would give his life for Inuyasha or Kagome, and through them would be equally as willing to give his life for Inuken. Would the Taijiya feel the same? Did Inuken want her to feel the same?

Miroku rapped quickly on the doorframe, and Inuken ducked quickly, making sure both Miroku and Aya hid his body from view. A series of stomps played on the floor inside, then a gloved hand roughly pushed the door screen open. Inuken, from behind his friends, could just see the flushed face of an older, shapely woman. She looked angry when she appeared at the door. When she saw Miroku, anger turned to fury. The irate flush deepened and her eyes became fiery-bright. Under the rage, however, there was a spark of surprise.

"Baka. What the hell do you want?" Though not a big woman by far, the Taijiya seemed to take up the whole doorway she stood in; perhaps, Inuken thought, it was only the power she exuded. This woman was not a youkai Taijiya for nothing. 

"Konnichiwa, Sango!" Miroku's voice took on a tone Inuken hadn't heard yet. Cheerful. Light-hearted. It didn't fool Sango.

"Don't be so familiar," she growled. "You've got no right."

"Ah, Sango-san," Miroku amended, never missing a beat, "it's been so long since I heard that lovely voice of yours. I'm going on a journey, and I would so love to hear your voice as I travel."

Sango laughed, an ugly thing, full of anger.

"And I see you've already chosen your traveling _companion_." Sango spit the last word out with special spite. Inuken couldn't see Sango gesture clearly, but Aya blushed. "Thank you, houshi-_sama_, but no." She gave the honorific as one who forced out a word one didn't really wish to say. 

Miroku stepped forward suddenly, clearing Inuken's vision to see the monk's uncursed arm grab Sango to stop her from going inside. 

"I'm going to search for Inuyasha and Kagome-sama," he said, the familiar seriousness returning. "I need your help and would very much like your company." There was a pause. Then Miroku's arm jerked to the side, thrown by Sango. 

"You could have searched with Shippou and me a long time ago. You didn't. You stayed holed up, wallowing in rightful shame in the forest." Sango snorted. "Besides, what makes you think you can find anything we didn't? Even Kouga searched and found nothing."

"I can get into the Inu stronghold."

"They've isolated themselves," she said, and Inuken felt his breath catch. "I don't care how many times you visited them before this, or how many friends you have on the inside, they won't even let human merchants inside the gates anymore."

"They'll let us in." Miroku's statement was concise, serious, and Sango paused. Then Inuken heard a sigh.

"Why? Why will they let you in above all people?"

Miroku moved sideways, revealing Inuken to the woman, and Sango to Inuken fully. He saw the completely black armor she wore, the small but noticeable wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and the grey hairs in her otherwise jet black hair. She was just under Miroku's age, but her stance and the steel in her voice gave him no doubts that she could still fight, and fight well. The youkai Taijiya leader, Inuken remembered, had been a man about this age or older, as he had been Sango's father.

Sango, for her part, stumbled when she saw him. Inuken watched her eyes widen, her mouth drop, and he looked to Miroku for guidance. The monk watched Sango as well, and was no help. 

"I-Inuyasha?"

Inuken startled, his gaze snapped back to the woman. She thought he was his otou-san?

"Eh, no. I'm Higurashi Inuken."

Sango stepped fully from the arch of her doorway, lifting a hand to either side of his face. She stared long and hard into his eyes. Inuken felt the urge to fidget, to look away, but couldn't break her grip. At last the woman seemed satisfied and let go, though she didn't look away.

"You can't be Inuken. He was taken away by Kagome-chan."

"She took me through the well and sealed it." Inuken shrugged. "I opened it."

"He has his okaa-san's power," Miroku said with a smile. "He's the reason I was able to leave the villagers." The monk grinned when Aya cleared her throat. "With Aya-san's help, of course."

Sango gave the monk a wary glance, then returned her eyes to Inuken. He saw deep mistrust in her eyes, and wasn't sure if it were directed at him, or Miroku, or all three of them. Inuken found himself wondering what could have happened in the past to make this woman so suspicious. It must have something to do with Miroku, considering how she had greeted him. 

"Well," Sango finally said, "he certainly has his otou-san's face. If not for those eyes, he'd be Inuyasha in human form."

"So, will you come with us, then?" Miroku asked the question with an uncharacteristic hesitation, and a dull sort of hope swam beneath the surface of his eyes. Sango watched him. Did she see the same thing Inuken saw? Could she? He didn't think so, for the Taijiya snorted and turned to walk back into her home.

"I'd prefer to never travel with you again in my lifetime, houshi-_sama_. You're a powerful houshi, with the Air Rip at your beck and call." She motioned over her shoulder at Inuken and Aya. "You've got the son of Inuyasha and Kagome-chan as well as a girl you've already said has been a big help. You don't need me."

Miroku's mien went dark, troubled, and Inuken could almost see the storm about to break. He saw the tight way the monk's skin fell over his face before Miroku spoke, so though what was said came as a bit of a shock, it didn't surprise Inuken that the words were so bleak.

"I'm old, Sango-san. Older than I ever expected to be." Miroku paused, and Sango stopped with one hand resting on the doorframe. "Maybe I'm not elderly, but you know as well as I do that it is only luck and perhaps some help from the Buddha that has kept me alive until now. Maybe it's destiny. Maybe I'm meant to help Inuken find his parents. But I cannot take the chance that the Air Rip will consume me while they are around. I will have to leave them if it comes to that, to make sure they don't get caught as well. I don't want to leave them alone, which is what will happen if I die on this journey, even if not by the Air Rip." Miroku was so serious Inuken couldn't breathe. As the moments passed, Inuken realized he couldn't breath because the air around Miroku literally became heavy as his energy sparked with . . . worry? Anxiety? "I need you to be there for them if I die."

Inuken's sharp eyes caught the minute tightening of Sango's fingers on wood. The four stood in silence, three of them watching the fourth, waiting. Sango stared into the darkness of her own home. 

"Alright," she said, words shattering the silence, "but I'm not leaving here until tomorrow. I have things to take care of before I go."

Miroku nodded.

"We'll find a generous family to offer us shelter." He started to turn away, but Sango stopped him.

"Inuken-kun and the girl can stay with me." She lifted an eyebrow and gave Miroku a satisfied smirk. "You try your luck with the villagers."

Miroku smiled, and Inuken thought it looked more than a little sad and held more than a little regret. The monk shrugged and nodded, veering himself back to find a house of kind people who would take him in. Inuken looked to Aya. She was frowning, violet eyes dark. Inuken had a feeling he knew what she was thinking; no matter what anger Sango felt for Miroku, it shouldn't be any reason to turn him away. In a moment, Aya turned and began following Miroku. Inuken, facing the full brunt of Sango's shocked glare, shrugged, grinned, and went after the other two. 

"Okay!" Sango called after them, "You can all stay here!"

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Time ticked by slowly in the stronghold to the North. With little to no contact with folk outside the village walls, the people inside lived in a haze of days so alike they blurred one after the other into an endless, mindless string. The inhabitants sloughed through time like mules pulling carts of seconds, minutes and hours behind them. On the faces of nearly every golden-eyed individual could be seen a shadow of anxiety. Change had always come slowly to these people, but change seemed to have died completely, and even they felt its passing. No one, however, complained.

Though there was at least one person who dearly wanted to; Akseh's heart fluttered in his chest with impatience. Twelve, coming on thirteen, years passed by while he and his people waited, blending in with the inhabitants of this mountain fortress, and their leader had ordered little more than the razing and ravaging of a few select villages. Akseh snarled as he stood at his window, watching the sea of white hair below him surge and swirl. As the general overseeing the Lord's army, Akseh should have been sent on at least one raid in a dozen years. At least one. 

His right hand with its borrowed claws clenched tightly over the smooth ball of flawless crystal he held. No, he spent every day in this place, watching the same faces smile hollow smiles, the same mothers hover over the same children, and the same children fight their mothers endlessly. 

The crystal vibrated. Akseh moved away from the window, to the circular table sitting in the middle of the room, the only piece of furniture in this part of Akseh's personal set of chambers save a single chair. In the center of the table a small indentation made the perfect place to set the crystal in so it would not roll away. Akseh placed his treasure there and sat in the chair, golden eyes trained on that transparent surface. The crystal had long ago been a gift from his Lord, when the master realized that Akseh had some small portion of a Seeing Gift. Not much, and not powerful, so he needed the crystal to focus what little Gift he had. 

With the skill that had come from time and self-teaching, Akseh centered himself, felt the energies built in this room from constant use, and unfocused his physical eyes in order to See with his internal ones.

__

Darkness. A blur of motion, no sound. People milling, swords flashing, horses rearing. A battle. The Battle. Akseh felt his heart pumping hard within his chest. It must be night; he could not See the faces of those people fighting for him, nor of those fighting against him, save one.

The boy. Even through shadows and black youki, the boy's face was clear. A stranger, but familiar in the subtle and unnerving way that leaves no knowledge of how. The boy's face twisted with rage, his golden eyes blazed as he struck out with glowing hands at Akseh's allies. Black hair writhed about the face so distorted with fury, and Akseh remembered the card of the Black Inu . . . 

Akseh jerked clear of the vision, frightened suddenly by the memory of that card as he had not been when the fortune-teller first showed it to him. 

The fortune-teller. 

Akseh remembered the curious buzzing in his head when he first approached her tent, and the way he had been almost smothered by the energies within. Her handling of the cards had not just been of someone who had been working with them for years. She used the Destiny cards as one with intimate knowledge of them, their meanings, and the future they often showed. 

Well, things had become interesting in this little fortress after all. Languid, like a cat rolling in comfort, a smile stretched over his face. If the Lord refused to send his general out to have fun, then he would make his own. Beginning with the fortune-teller. 

Akseh reached forward and clutched the viewing crystal. A spark struck him, traveling up his arm, carrying one last message to the mind behind those golden eyes.

__

Light. Bright, blinding light, cutting through the dark youki. Then nothing.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Miroku sat outside Sango's hut of his own will, images of things long past flashing through his mind. The time when everything went so wrong. Strange that there was no defining line. He couldn't reach a certain thought or memory and think, _here, this is why things ended like they have. _No, he could only look at the way things had been and the way they were and marvel at the complete difference. Why, he remembered clearly the time when Kagome-sama and Inuyasha nearly hated each other. He remembered the occasion—well, several, actually—when the quest had almost ended completely because of Inuyasha's deep and profound idiocy. He also remembered when their long mission finally did end. So sweet for Inuyasha and Kagome-sama, who only wanted to be together. So bitter for the lone and lonely monk.

He flexed his right hand. The habit kept him sane, reminding him that his hand and body remained, whole and untouched. With a rattle of beads he lifted the offending member to his face. Purple cloth, gold ring, and white beads greeted his gaze, as they had since his father's death and as they would until his own. If only he'd managed to father a child. If only he hadn't—

"Houshi-sama."

He looked up to see Sango standing in the doorway. Her hand kept the door screen at bay, dark eyes peering at him.

"You should come inside."

"No," he said with a small smile and a sigh, "I know when I'm not wanted, Sango-san. I can feel the fire through the door and that is good enough for me." Miroku leaned back against the wall and fixed his eyes into the heavens. He readied himself for the night spent outside, as he had spent so many nights in his life. 

Instead, he sensed Sango sitting down as well. Far enough to not be considered sitting next to him, but near him. Miroku didn't dare turn his gaze away from the stars to look at her for fear of facing her wrath. So he kept his eyes to the sky and she remained quiet. A dull, far off sense of familiarity crept over the monk as in those stars he saw a map of the past. After all, how many times had he and Sango sat up in the night just as they did now, looking upwards and wondering silently what the morning would bring? So many years later it felt the same, only laced with a bit more animosity. 

"Do you really think Inuken-kun will be able to help us find them?" Sango's question came without warning but didn't entirely surprise Miroku.

"I don't know, but it seems to me that his returning opens a lot of doors that weren't open before." He finally dared to look at her, and it did surprise him that she was looking at him. 

"And the girl?"

"There's something strange about her," he admitted, "but I don't know exactly what. Whatever she is, it's beyond my ability to sense." He thought of how Aya had been the one to point out the solution to the problem of leaving the villagers, and of what Inuken had told him later, how Aya said he 'glowed'. Miroku understood that; the glow would be the aura of spiritual power that marked Inuken as Kagome-sama's son and a potential future monk. What he didn't understand was how Aya had seen it when she had no power of her own—or, he amended—none that he could see. 

"So, she's one of your new conquests, then." Sango's face went tight and dark again. How to answer such a statement? Miroku knew there were many ways he could respond. He could fuel her anger, but she may decide to leave their quest before she began. He could tell her everything, but at this point she wouldn't believe him anyway. Besides, his reasons . . . his reasons were all still intact. 

So he gave the only answer he could.

"No." There. Simple. Let her make of it what she wanted, with no help from him. 

A shadow of disbelief crossed her expression, then melted quickly. She knew as well as he did that of all the things he had ever been or pretended to be he was never, exactly, a liar. Okay, well, maybe a little lie here and there, but never about something such as this. 

"Sango-san, I know it is taking a lot of strength for you to travel with me, and I know that you do it only for the sake of the children." Inuken and Aya weren't precisely children, he knew, but the word carried his meaning. "I thank you deeply for that."

Sango stared upwards for a few more moments. Miroku watched her, hardly able to breathe at the sight of her face bathed in pale moonlight. He thought he saw a tear in her eye, but then she moved to rise and it became a figment of the Moon. Sango stood and brushed the dirt from her clothing before heading towards the door without looking at him. Miroku turned away, convinced she would go inside without speaking. 

"It isn't strength that has me following you, houshi-sama."

Miroku started. Sango disappeared inside before he could return any sort of reply. Perhaps it was best that way. Some things were never meant to be explained or defended. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what she meant. Miroku swallowed back his questions and his, yes, his fear, and turned his eyes back up to the stars. The stars were beautiful but far away. The stars were safe. Safe for him and safe from him. 

End Chapter Five


	7. Chapter Six: Le Passage de Rêves

****

Authors Notes: My gods, this plot just keeps growing and getting more intricate. I don't know what it is, but… YEAH!! I LOVE IT!! Though, I am starting to get worried about losing threads. It's a lot to keep up with. I'm sure I'll do fine, though! After all, I HAVE to if I plan to be an author for a living, ne? ;o)

****

Thankies: Pleiades-sama: I don't think I can ever thank you enough. You've been a GREAT beta reader and I look forward to you continuing that service all through the rest of AQD, however long it lasts. Fuuzaki-chan: ::huggles:: I wuvles you, Imouto! My own snuggly imouto-chan to keep me company! Tensei-chan: Hey, your birthday was sometime around the posting of this (right now it's before, but by the time this actually gets posted, it may be after) so HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And hail to the translation queen! Satan's Mistress: You know, it just doesn't seem right to put –chan after your name. Hmm. Anyways, hope you had fun this weekend and have I got something to show YOU when you get back!! Oh, and dun worry, I kept Sesshie nice and safe for you while you were gone. ;o) Weissangel-san: You're just too talented for words! ::huggles::

****

Disclaimers: The world would be a lot easier if-- ::gets whapped by lawyers:: Okies, okies! Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Damn. Aya and all Weiss Kruz related characters belong to whoever created them, which wasn't me. Damn it. Inuken, Toushiko, Akseh, Hephzibah, Anja, Saytori, Kenjin, Zurui, Mineko (my GODS the OCs!!) all belong to me, as will any other OCs that decide to show themselves. Whoo hoo!

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapter Six - Le Passage de Rêves

Morning dawned promising over the Northern fortress. The sun stepped lightly, its rays a transparent pale gold. Outside the fortress this glow suffused the snow that always clung to the mountain ground, winter or not, with a gentle sparkle. Inside the fortress, where life kept all proof of winter chill at bay, the weightless light lifted spirits. Faces looked into the sky and, for no reason anyone could name, smiled. Only a few did not, but Toushiko was not one of them. Hope filled her despite the persistence of those who did not belong; joy bubbled just beneath her surface.

She wiped down her card table with a silk cloth to clear away all unwanted energy signatures. Through the tent flap, from outside, the gentle sound of birdsong filtered in, causing the smile that marked her face to widen just the slightest. She felt the shifting of energies in the way most of her people could not, and so her happiness was more profound. Something, something outside the reach of their fortress, had happened, changing . . . she could not be sure what changed, but something did. As a result, for now, hope had been allowed to enter her home and the hearts of its people, a hope that everyone save herself had not even known was gone until it returned.

Was it the boy? Toushiko turned away from the door flap to the longer table set up behind the first. This one held extra merchandise a customer might purchase, from lucky stones to bracelets woven with certain energies. There were no extra sets of Destiny cards. Unlike some others who read the cards for a living, Toushiko refused to sell them to people who would go out and scare unwitting victims. 

__

Was it the boy? She asked herself this question again as her hand idly returned the silk cloth to its place on a shelf specially attached beneath the longer table. The boy occupied her visions more often than not in recent days, ever since her drawing of the Black Inu card for the one called Akseh. Toushiko sighed and tried to feel some apprehension about his coming, for she knew it heralded the Battle to follow. Perhaps that, other than his glowing eyes and black hair, made her associate him with the Black Inu. Even that thought, however, could not make her dread this boy or the future day when she would lay physical eyes on him. Whatever else he brought, he brought freedom.

Her Sight did not warn her. Not even the sound of the tent bells warned her. Toushiko began to turn around only to be grabbed from behind, clawed hand placed over her mouth and cold lips at her ear.

"Well now," began a familiar and unwanted voice, "I've had some time to think about my reading, and I've decided I am highly unhappy."

Akseh. Toushiko breathed as well as she could through his hand, the putrid smell, and her fear. His voice alone frightened her, but the touch of darkness, the rough and decayed contact of his used flesh to her living skin turned her stomach. Tears betrayed her; Toushiko could no longer pretend she did not fear him. 

He released her mouth only to spin her around to peer into his face and grip her shoulders with rough hands. She saw the handsome lines and golden eyes framed with silver hair just as everyone else. She also Saw the brown and wrinkled frame beneath, the way the eyes glazed and sunk into the sockets and the lips peeled back tight against the face to reveal a line of constantly grinning teeth. 

"What do you See, Seer?" The skin of false life over his face leered. "I think I misjudged you. Tell me, what do you See?"

"I-I see death," she said, forcing the words through chattering teeth. She could say no more, but that seemed enough. He chuckled, hands releasing her. Akseh turned his back to her to walk around the edge of her card table slowly, and when he came to be opposite her, those sunken eyes lifted to her again. Toushiko trembled but could not move.

"I did underestimate you. I won't again, so be warned."

"Toushiko?"

She jumped at hearing Rei's voice so close. Akseh moved aside to show the other man standing in a halo of pale light against the tent's darkness. Rei carried two bags of rice, one in either hand, but looked ready to swing one or both to defend Toushiko. She shook her head, trying to convey the desperation of the situation with her gaze. Rei ignored her. 

"Is something wrong?" He stepped further into the tent, watching the thing called Akseh through the corner of his eyes. "If you're unhappy with a reading just remember that the future is never set in stone. We make changes in it every day with our choices. Isn't that right, Toushiko?"

"H-Hai." Though afraid of what Akseh might do, Toushiko felt glad for Rei's presence as he crossed the length of the tent and made his way to her side. Her lover set his burden on the merchandise table and turned back to the intruder, slipping a protective arm around Toushiko's waist. She leaned gratefully into his offer of refuge.

Akseh's grin, the false face set over the gruesome visage beneath, spread as a thing of fang and malice. Behind her corporeal eyes, Toushiko Saw a flash of that face as it one had been; smiling down at a child, the face carried lines of kindness right along hard lines of weary battle record. The child was his son, his second, and the boy worried him like his first did not. In her mind Toushiko wondered what could cause such worry in a father over a perfectly healthy child, then she saw the incongruous dog ears perched on top of the boy's head and felt the difference between him and his father. The boy was a hanyou, frozen forever between two worlds. There was more, however. The blood, something about the blood. Too harsh. The boy would need protection. He—

The memory faded as quickly at it had come, retreating back to where it originated, leaving only Akseh chuckling and Rei asking her what was wrong. Toushiko did not reply; she needed a moment to put together all she had Seen and felt and when she did, oh gods, when she did she understood. She understood that Akseh had shown her that vision because he wanted her to know whose body he rode, whose body he treated like little more than a carriage for his darkness. 

"You . . . oh gods . . . what have you done?"

Akseh laughed outright, throwing his head back, letting his cruel mirth cut through the tent's atmosphere. A terrible lump rose from deep within Toushiko's soul and lodged in her chest. Anger clenched her small hands together in fists. Before Rei could stop her, she stepped forward and, as Akseh allowed his laughter to fade and his head to tilt forward again, she slapped him.

"How dare you take that body! H-How DARE you!" Her body trembled but she felt no fear at the moment, only rage. Deep rage. Rage that lasted even though Akseh grabbed her wrist tightly and growled at her through a sneer.

"I dare do anything I please. You think you know what I am, child, but even your Sight has yet to show you everything." Akseh held her a moment longer, letting go only when Rei moved towards them. The thing with a beautiful face grinned at Rei, then turned and was gone as quickly as the light could part to let him through.

"What was that about?" Rei's voice remained steady, but as she looked up into his face Toushiko saw terror lurking behind the thin veil of his face. Whatever he could not see, Rei had felt, Toushiko was sure of it.

"He knows I See him for what he truly is, and he showed me the truth of the body he uses." Images of that face, as it once was, as well as the hanyou boy, swirled behind her vision in a hurricane of thought and emotion. 

"What?" Rei moved in front of her, as though to shield her from any more intruders that might decide to walk through the entrance. "What did he show you?"

Toushiko opened her mouth but found she could not bring herself to tell her vision aloud. She shook her head and turned from him in silence. The knowledge had a heaviness to it, and why should she subject Rei to that weight? Akseh had meant the knowledge for her, and probably for her to share it and the burden. She would not do that, to Rei or to the rest of the Clan, even if they would believe her. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Rin stared through the trees, over the horizon, to the North where the evening sun shone from the tops of the mountains, making them seem like giant diamonds. A gentleness resided there today, unlike most days when Rin thought she saw a perpetual cloud hanging over the place where the Inu Youkai stronghold stood. She had never been there, but Sesshoumaru-sama promised he would take her one day, and Sesshoumaru-sama always kept his promises. 

For now, though, dinner waited. She lowered her gaze and trekked the rest of the way through the darker forest, towards the hut that rose up in a hidden clearing to greet her. The place had, quite literally, risen from the ground one day, and was made of earth and stones but not by mortal hands. The roof knitted together from vines and leaves and was as tight against wind and rain as anything made by humans or youkai. The hut stood on a small hill, with stone steps that lead to the door and two trees on either side acted as guardians. As Rin approached the stone door it swung open without her help. She ignored it; that trick had long become normal, as had the windows that vanished when bad weather neared and the water basin that never emptied. Rin tossed the three rabbits in her hand onto the table and set her quiver of arrows down by the door.

"Jaken?"

Silence. Rin sighed and turned to set her bow on its hooks. Golden eyes and a stern face greeted her. Rin gasped and stumbled back against the wall. 

"Jaken is scouting."

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" She paused to gather her breath, then managed a spurt of anger. "You scared me! Don't do that, especially this close to dark." Rin set her bow in its place and turned back to the table, picking up her knife. 

"Gomen ne." Though, of course, he didn't sound the least bit sorry at all. "The scent in the air has changed."

Rin paused, blade inches from the first rabbit's skin. 

"You can smell the change?"

"Hai."

Rin waited for something more, but Sesshoumaru only turned away. Apparently he wanted to be difficult, and that was fine by her, yessiree. She was used to Sesshoumaru's silence and the way he sometimes—well, most of the time—neglected to share important details. Rin sighed to herself as she began skinning the rabbit for cooking. Perhaps she would find something to do with the pelt. It seemed such a shame to let that nice fur go to waste—

"Tenseiga is restless." Sesshoumaru's voice rumbled deep from his chest, and though he let nothing show, Rin knew he missed the sword more than he would admit and smiled at him.

"You still feel it, then, even from this distance, even after all this time." Rin had suspected as much, but Sesshoumaru would never answer when she asked. "You're connected to that sword, even after—"

"Pay attention to your knife, Rin."

Rin looked down to see she had been about to cut through her finger. Her hands jerked, surprised. 

"Arigatou, Sesshoumaru-sama." 

He didn't answer, and she hadn't expected him to. She continued her project, skinning the rabbits with practiced ease, cutting them into perfect strips of meat and setting the bones and the useless parts aside in separate piles. She stoked the ever-burning fire to be sure it would last, though she knew it would, and dropped the meat into the iron pot hanging over the flames. She'd never seen this before living in the hut, but it was useful. During all this, neither of them said a word. The sun set and moonlight streamed through the window and Sesshoumaru.

"Jaken should be back soon," Rin finally said, "It's getting too dark for him to be comfortable being out by himself." She took a ladle and began dipping rabbit stew into two bowls.

"Jaken won't be coming back."

Rin dropped the bowl. Stew splattered over her feet and the floor but she didn't notice. All she could see was Sesshoumaru's pale form in the window, moonbeams filtering through his hair and the eyes that always masked the thoughts going on inside that sharp youkai mind. Even now, she didn't know what he thought about his own statement. 

"What do you mean 'Jaken won't be coming back'?"

"He was caught. They know him. They killed him."

Rin sat down, hard, on the floor. Jaken, dead? The little toad had hardly been good company, but she'd spent most of her life with Sesshoumaru-sama and Jaken. Annoying and blithering as Jaken was, nevertheless she'd been somewhat attached to him. Like an uncle she loved because he was family but had to tolerate his irritating and sometimes strange behavior. This couldn't be true, but it was because Sesshoumaru-sama never lied. 

__

What am I going to do?

Sesshoumaru turned to her, and she saw one of those rare—though, they had become more frequent in recent years—moments of expression in his eyes and on his face. He came to her, kneeled, and moved as though to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped just short. 

"You're not completely alone, Rin."

__

I know, I know that Sesshoumaru-sama, but you're not much company either, you never have been, and even though you can't leave the clearing now you're still not much company and it's really not even that but Jaken was annoying but he was alive so alive and now he's dead and things like that can't be undone they can't be undone the dead can't be brought back even though they may linger . . .

Rin looked into Sesshoumaru-sama's face, thought those thoughts, and could no longer hold in the tears she'd held for thirteen years. Knowing her mind, as he always did, Sesshoumaru set down his masks to try and comfort her, but his arms found no purchase because the moonlight shone right through him.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Deep in a cavern, somewhere in a section of the mountains far from the Inu Youkai stronghold, something stirred. The guardian left to defend it readied himself.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

"Inuken-san, stop it!"

"It's already dead, Aya-san!" Inuken poked the thing on the side of the road once more with the stick in his hand. Miroku wasn't quite sure anymore if the boy did it out of curiosity or just to hear Aya squeal again. "I think it was a youkai. See the tentacle?" Another poke, and another squeal. 

"Inuken-san!"

Beside him, Sango sighed and her hand tightened in the strap to Hiraikotsu. Miroku decided, for more than one reason, it was time to intervene.

"Inuken," he said as he stepped towards the two younger people, "leave it be." As he stood over the two he could see what had caught Inuken's attention. It was indeed a youkai, but strange in this part of the country for its natural habitat was the sea. Squid youkai normally did not travel so far inland, and doing so had apparently cost this one its life. "Squid youkai, especially ones this small, are harmless when alive and even more so dead. It doesn't deserve to be poked like that, Inuken. Aren't you seventeen years old? Long past manhood; I'm surprised you still act with the immaturity and disrespect of a child. Even your father at his most tiresome never showed disrespect for the dead."

Inuken dropped the stick and stood. Good, that was as it should be. Miroku watched closely as the half-hanyou looked down at his pitiful prey and flushed. The monk let him wallow for a moment; shame in small amounts was good for a person, and never hurt. When Inuken looked about ready to sink into the ground and vanish, Miroku put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't the two of us give this poor creature a proper burial, ne?" 

Inuken nodded, a small smile on his face and a sigh passing through his lips. Relief did much to lighten the boy's heart and Miroku noticed that he took to the task of burial almost like a monk himself. My, but Inuken was a confusing child, or man, depending on when one found him. In the weeks since the boy's arrival, Miroku had observed him in acts both adult and childish. One moment he would be like a guardian to the children of a given village, or a mentor, and the next be just one of them, having just as much fun in their games as they did. Were all people in the future like this, so mature and immature at the same time? Miroku shook his head. What a terrible place to live, when lines were so blurred.

"Miroku-san, I can do the rest." Inuken wiped his brow, smearing a line of dirt across his forehead. He breathed heavily from the work, and sweat tinged his skin with sparks. 

"Are you sure?"

"Hai." The boy nodded, jaw jutted outward, determined.

"So be it." 

Miroku climbed out of the hole, wiping his own face with a section of his robe that was of an indeterminate state of cleanliness. Sango and Aya stood nearby, and the girl came forward to hand him water in one of the strange things brought from her time, what she called a 'canteen'.

"Arigatou," he said when finished, returning the canteen to her. Aya nodded, then turned her gaze to Inuken, who worked furiously, brow furrowed together, mouth a tight line. 

"Miroku-san, are you sure it's all right to let him work alone?" 

"There isn't much more to dig, and he insisted." Miroku pushed himself slowly to his feet, surprised to discover his bones did not unbend as readily as they once had. How long had this been true? He really was getting old if even his bones betrayed him. The monk felt a grin settle over his face at the thought. 

"What's that stupid grin all about?" Sango frowned at him, eyes narrowed in speculation.

"I was only thinking that I am truly getting old." Then he laughed. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Two days after burying the squid youkai, the group found shelter in a village. Miroku sat awake. Sleep was far away, lost in the torrent of thoughts tumbling inside his mind. Four days of travelling with Sango had been somewhat humbling. She never missed a chance to verbally jab him or shoot him a disgusted look. Despite his assurance of the first night, she seemed more convinced with each passing day that Aya was indeed more of a companion than just travelling. Really a very typical reaction from the Taijiya, but it still hurt. It hurt very much.

He watched Inuken turn over in his sleep. The boy's face, wrapped in shadows, seemed to melt into a younger version, and tightened with anxiety. Miroku wondered what dreams haunted Inuken so, that he clung to his blanket and whimpered like a child. 

"O-Okaa-san . . . ." Even his sleeping voice was high and innocent, a child's voice. 

Miroku's attention shifted. Next to Inuken on the floor, wrapped in blankets, Aya slept peacefully, at least on the surface. She did not toss or turn, but her brows creased together and her lips curled downward in a confused frown. When she spoke in her sleep, Miroku started at the name she said.

"Sesshou . . . maru . . ."

End Chapter Six


	8. Chapter Seven: Je Deviens Rien

****

Authors Notes: Hello all. Um. Don't ever give me scissors. Scissors and Sailorcelestial is a bad combination. Finger hurting, so gonna cut this short… argh. ::bangs head on desk:: Pun NOT intended.

****

Thankies: It's not that I don't still love you people, but my finger's hurting. So, next time, okies?

****

Disclaimers: Inuyasha = Takahashi-sama. Aya = Not me. Inuken and misc. OCs = me. No suing broke student.

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapitre Sept - Je Deviens Rien

"Okay, okay, you stand here." Inuken took the boy by the shoulders and placed him appropriately. "You three back up! Keep going! Okay, that's good!" The boy beside him looked up at Inuken and held his wide stick without a clue as to what to do with it. "Now, you hold it like this," Inuken showed him the proper stance, feet apart, hands placed about midway of the handle and leaning forward. The boy emulated him perfectly. "Good! Now, I'm gonna go out to that little dirt mound we made and throw the ball. When I do that, try to hit it with the stick." 

Inuken straightened his cap and trotted out to the small dirt hill. Three different balls lay waiting for him, pieced together from strips of leather and wrapped in the softer cloth Aya insisted on, claiming fear of a child getting hurt if accidentally hit. Inuken chose the largest ball. 

"You ready?"

The boy nodded. Inuken threw the ball very lightly. His young protégé swung his stick and grazed the ball, knocking it down to the ground instead of straight forward. 

"Hey, that was great for your first try," Inuken said when the boy's shoulders slumped. "Most people can't even hit it the first time."

Sango watched him from the sidelines of what he called the 'baseball field'. He'd gotten it into his head to teach the children this game from the future, played with a stick and a ball. If the person hit the ball they were allowed to run around the field. While she didn't see much point in the game, Sango did see that Inuken worked well with the children, assuaging their disappointments with encouraging words, or giving just the right amount of scolding when they fought amongst each other or became rough. He had all of them looking up to him with the hero-worship so common for children. None of them seemed to notice his eyes or ears, unlike their parents.

Sango scowled. The group had been accepted in this village only on her reputation and Miroku's status as a monk. The adults here feared the boy because they knew the marks of youkai blood when they saw them. Inuken and Aya may not have recognized the signs, but Sango did.

"How are they doing?" Miroku sat next to her, eyes watching the game on the field.

"I'm not sure. I don't know the rules." She allowed herself a smile before the scowl returned. "I'm surprised the parents are letting their children play with Inuken-kun."

"Ah, you noticed, then."

"How could I not?" She squinted and raised a hand as one of the clouds in the sky moved to let the sun shine directly in her face. "It makes me want to shove Hiraikotsu down their throats."

"They're only human, Sango-san. They're afraid; it's natural."

"They have nothing to be afraid of. They'd see that if they took one second to watch him." She snorted. "He's nothing like Inuyasha in personality. He's more like Kagome-chan." About that time on the field, one of the children hit the ball hard, making it fly over the heads of the rest. Inuken cheered.

"Go! Run! Run to first base!" Inuken guided the child with wild arm motions and shouts, and after a few false starts finally got her running in the right direction. There proceeded a flurry of motion on the field Sango assumed had some meaning, though she couldn't say she knew what. 

"I wouldn't say that," Miroku said once the excitement died down.

"Say what?" Sango found she'd completely forgotten the last thing she said. 

"That he's nothing like Inuyasha. You haven't been trying to teach him to use his power. He can be very obstinate." 

"Maybe that's true, but you have to admit he's kinder and more polite than his otou-san."

"More polite, definitely." Miroku lowered his head, shaking it, and chuckled. "Yes, Inuken is more polite than Inuyasha, but I wouldn't say kinder. Inuyasha had his own special brand of kindness."

His own special brand of kindness. Sango suffered half a smile as she remembered the moment she decided to stay beside Inuyasha no matter what. The sword had been in her hand, ready to pierce through Kohaku's heart and then her own. Kohaku looked up at her with empty eyes, making the choice to kill him all the more difficult with his soft, innocent face. Sango remembered thinking _Forgive me Kohaku! _and _Strike! NOW!_ So close, she'd come so close to killing Kohaku then and freeing him and herself from what was to come. Then Inuyasha screamed at her to stop, and his hand darted from nowhere to knock the sword from her hand. So close. His words still echoed in her head.

__

"I'm going to tell you this now so you won't do anything rash. Kohaku was ordered by Naraku to kill Kagome, but he didn't. He still has a heart of his own!"

Perhaps if she had been forty-two then, instead of eighteen, she would have wondered at Inuyasha's words. She might have thought to be angry at the harsh manner in which Inuyasha spoke, but at the time she felt only gratitude. 

In her mind the scene changed, to the village and the bodies. Bandits, all of them, dead and perhaps deserving death, but not in the manner it had come. Sango remembered seeing Kagome next to Inuyasha, and hearing him ask, "_Did I do this?"_ His voice, always so grating and sarcastic, had for just that moment been . . . soft. Vulnerable. "_Heh. My claws are soaked in the smell of their blood."_ She supposed he had been trying to sound nonchalant about waking from whatever state he went into and finding human blood on his hands. She heard the pain there, however, and a look at Miroku showed that so did he. Kagome knew, of course. Much, much later, years later, after the quest was over and the two were married, Kagome had told Sango in confidence of right after that incident, when Inuyasha tried to wash his hands clean and couldn't make the blood smell go away, how he tried to tell Kagome he didn't give a damn about killing those men. How Kagome knew the thought tore him apart inside. Sango kept her confidence even so many years later. Not even Miroku knew of that incident.

"I guess I didn't live up to my oath as well as you did."

Miroku looked at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You remember that day, after Inuyasha transformed and killed those bandits, both of us made an oath to stay beside him no matter what happened." She paused. The oath had been more unspoken than spoken, but she knew he remembered, that he understood. The monk nodded. She sighed. "I guess I forgot."

"It's not your fault. You said you wouldn't leave Inuyasha. You didn't leave him. You left me." 

Sango stared at Miroku warily. How did he mean that? That little bastard. He made it sound as thought the fault had been hers for leaving, when HE was the one who—

A shadow fell over her, interrupting her pleasantly irate train of thought. Sango looked up and over her right shoulder to see Aya standing just behind her. Well, just the little slut from the future Sango didn't want to see. The Taijiya disliked Aya on principle, and wondering if the girl might be touched in the head didn't make things better. She acted strange often, hanging close to Miroku but keeping a possessive eye on Inuken, not to mention looking at things the others didn't see. At the moment she looked out over the field towards the forest beyond. Damn if that forest weren't everywhere. Was it the same forest, winding and stretching its way through all of Japan? More likely there were merely scatterings of many separate forests. 

"Is everything all right?" Miroku turned not just his head, but his entire body towards the girl. Did he realize he did this, or was it just a habit? Sango felt the scowl in her chest and fought to keep it down. Maybe being a lecher was just something Miroku couldn't control. Maybe she shouldn't be so hard on him. Maybe the village pigs would spontaneously sprout wings and take flight. 

"Something's wrong," Aya said, eyes scanning the trees as though she expected a youkai attack at any moment. Miroku stood, so Sango stood as well, hauling Hiraikotsu with her, though she didn't understand what was going on. So the girl felt nervous. It was a natural feeling, Sango assumed, when one time traveled into the past and faced unknown things, though Sango herself had never experienced that particular event. 

"Inuken-oniisan, what's that?" On the field, one of the little girls took Inuken by the hand and buried her face in his upper arm. The boy looked to where the child pointed and so did Sango. 

A woman burst from the foliage, cloak billowing around her form as she ran. Immediately Sango saw the golden eyes that marked youkai. The realization caused the Taijiya to move closer, fingers clutching Hiraikotsu's strap. Her reaction to the youkai halted when she saw what followed. A pack of wolves, jaws snapping, spittle flying from their teeth. Obviously mad, but possibly controlled? It didn't matter. They were gaining on the youkai woman and were plainly too many for her to handle alone. Sango started forward before she realized that, on the field, Inuken had done the same. 

"Inuken-kun, stay back! It's too dangerous; you're not trained!"

He glanced at her over his shoulder and kept running. Sango released the scowl she'd been holding back. Damn all men and their obstinate natures. The boy would get himself killed, if not now then later. She saw that he had the child's stick in his hand. Well, maybe with a weapon, even such a petty one, he would stand a chance of living. Certainly she couldn't turn him back; he was too stubborn and it was too late. 

"Hiraikotsu!" Sango flung the giant bone boomerang towards the wolf leaping at its prey, and grinned to see Hiraikotsu strike with perfect precision, cutting through the beast but not the youkai woman. The weapon had been long out of use, being too large to use against the strange creatures. Sango caught Hiraikotsu when it returned to her as easily as she ever had. She may be getting old, but she could still fight! Hah! 

There were twenty of the wolves, nineteen without the one already dead. Sango set forth to eliminate more, and before the next one went down Miroku was at her side with his staff. With Inuken swinging with skill at wolf heads, and the youkai woman now wielding a sword, that made four against twenty; five wolves for each of them. These were better odds and the four managed to take out all twenty beasts in little time. Despite herself, Sango appreciated Miroku's help and was impressed by how well Inuken handled himself. With a swing of his stick the last wolf fell.

Sango took a moment to catch her breath, a moment in which she noticed Miroku and Inuken do the same, and the youkai woman sheath her sword. Well, good. The stranger had no plans to attack them, at least not yet. Miroku was first to straighten and step closer to their unnamed battle partner. 

"I am Miroku," he said, bowing slightly. "My companions and I thank you for your assistance." What, thank HER? She was the one who needed rescue, and the group had saved her, not the other way around! What the hell did Miroku think he was saying?

"Your thanks is appreciated," the youkai woman replied in a voice deep and with a certain hissing quality. She didn't even thank them in return. The woman pulled back her hood, revealing the pointed ears that further identified her as a youkai in human form, and the short cropped red hair that distinguished her Clan. "I am Mineko of the Neko Youkai."

Sango sighed. No wonder.

"You are far from the valley of your Clan, Mineko-san." Miroku nodded sagely, and Sango expected the obligatory 'Will you bear my child?' any moment.

"I have been sent from my people as a liaison from the Neko Youkai to the humans. I have traveled for most of a year, going from village to village." Mineko's explanation ended there, with the unspoken knowledge that her quest couldn't have been very successful. It would take more than one youkai woman professing good will to convince humans to ally with her people. Sango snorted, for the whole idea had an air of the ridiculous. 

"Of course," Miroku was saying, "you must come to this village then. We are ourselves only guests, but we are somewhat respected and—"

"You are," Mineko said, then jerked her head towards Sango, "and as the stench of youkai blood wafts from that one, I assume she is as well." Indifferent golden eyes landed on Inuken. "I doubt he is."

Inuken sputtered, eyes wide as Mineko moved towards him, appraising him silently with her gaze. She gave no respect for the boy's personal space, moving his hair to take a better look at his ears. The youkai woman even pulled his lips apart to examine his teeth. Sango started when she saw the two fangs glinting at her; she hadn't known about those and Inuken had not enlightened her. Finally Mineko sniffed and backed away, leaving Inuken to massage his mouth and glare at her with angry annoyance. 

"As I thought. The boy is hanyou, or less. These villagers hate and fear him even if they do not show it."

"Then perhaps, as the liaison of the Neko Youkai, you can convince them not only of your good will, but Inuken's as well." Sango meant it as sarcasm and realized a second too late her mistake. Mineko's eyes narrowed as she turned a second glance to Inuken. Damn! She'd worked with mindless beast youkai for too long; she'd forgotten the subtler nuances of the more . . . civilized youkai. She shouldn't have given Inuken's name, not yet.

"This one is Inu?" 

Inuken, seeing her anger and not understanding it, growled and clenched his hands into fists. 

"So? Is there a problem?"

"Ah," Miroku moved in between Inuken and Mineko, "it's just that the Inu Youkai and the Neko Youkai have been feuding for as long as anyone can remember."

"It is more than that! Those Inu bastards—"

"What's going on?" Aya closed in, violet eyes worried, glancing from person to person. 

"This bitc—"

"Why don't we all return to the village to settle this?" Miroku cut off Inuken's less than polite epithet quickly and effectively as he put a hand on Mineko's shoulder, ignoring her killer glare, and led her towards the line of huts. "The humans here are very hospitable . . . ."

Damn that too-affable monk.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Hephzibah watched and waited. Those fools squandered away their time in an out of the way human village, teaching games and fighting wolves. How stupid. Then again, the longer they remained here or in any other village, the longer the Lord would have to master the Object. All that mattered in this world was the Object and its mastery. Once tamed, the Object would exceed any power reached by this company of sundry imbeciles. Hephzibah smiled. The Lord would be pleased. 

As Hephzibah turned to go home, however, the wind shifted and things changed. The dwindling day suddenly darkened, and though Hephzibah could not be certain it was not merely the sun sinking below the trees or a random cloud barring most light, the unexpected gloom left behind a shudder on the feminine frame retreating into the forest. 

__

I do not envy those who will be here tonight.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Inuken felt his stomach roil again, and looked towards the new addition to the village. He'd felt strange for most of the day, at least since Mineko arrived. It must be her fault. She must have done something to him when she 'inspected' him. He growled low in his throat, remembering the way her eyes dismissed him and her declaration that he was hanyou, 'or less'. Did youkai always act this . . . snooty? Not to mention the villagers. Miroku and Sango hadn't mentioned anything, but Inuken knew. He saw. He heard. He was mostly human, could pass for human in his own time; to think what his otou-san must have gone through. Inuyasha, from the descriptions Inuken had been given, could have never been mistaken for fully human. 

"Inuken-san, here!" Aya laughed as she handed him another bowl. Miroku had been entertaining them with stories of the old days, of Inuyasha and his lack of common sense, Kagome and the way she managed Inuyasha. Sango interjected here and there with her own memories, but mostly kept silent. Inuken took the bowl from Aya and realized he didn't remember how the last story ended. 

"Arigatou, Aya-san," he said though he placed the still full bowl down the moment she turned away. The roiling in his stomach made the soup take on a nasty look and a worse smell. He'd only eaten a little of the first bowl; Aya must not have noticed.

Miroku launched into another story, but Inuken felt little like listening. Not that he wasn't interested, but his stomach was insisting on a little private time. With a murmured 'excuse me' that became lost somewhere in Miroku's words, Inuken managed to slip away unnoticed from the small group and out of their shared guest hut. Outside the cooler air did much to calm him; Inuken took a deep, satisfied breath and stepped further into the night. There were no people around, which meant no one to gawk at him when they thought he wasn't looking, no one to glance towards their children fearfully and no one to smile nervous smiles. The entire village seemed to think they had to give him anything he wanted or else he might destroy them all. 

__

How stupid. Even if they had anything I wanted, which they don't, I wouldn't do anything like that. Besides, all I want right now is a soft mattress and a hot bath.

His stomach made another circuit, flip-flopping about with zeal. Apparently even the air outside couldn't settle it for long. Inuken grimaced as the faint nausea flared suddenly into spasms of pain, sharp and intense, forcing him into a bow in an instinctive attempt to lesson the pangs. He reached out, grasping the first thing his hand fell on, feeling his knees weaken beneath him. The pain spread from his stomach through his chest, blossoming in a rose of agony down his arms and legs into his fingers and toes. Inuken gasped when invisible fire seared his fingertips, tightening his grip as though whatever he touched were his anchor to the world outside of pain.

__

W-What's . . . happen—

PAIN!!!

A howl clawed up from him and tore from his lips, ripping through the calm air as wolves slashed prey unaware. Inuken didn't hear; his ears heard only the pounding rush of blood in his own body, blood flowing with sudden and violent force, blood carrying pain and fire through his veins. 

"Inuken-san!"

Momentarily the blood-sound was cut off by the voice, Aya's voice, very close. Too close. Inuken lifted his head, seeing the girl running towards him, her mouth now moving soundlessly as his ears again shut out all but the blood. He felt a vibration deep in his throat, a growl, only rougher, deeper somehow that before. Inuken fought it back long enough to shout, or so he hoped.

"STAY AWAY!" 

Aya stopped, but he saw her hesitancy, in her eyes he read her worry, but most importantly, he smelled her in the air, much more potent than before. Aya, Miroku, Sango, Mineko, the villagers . . . all were everywhere, in every scent around him, flooding his nose in ways he couldn't have imagined until this moment. Another spasm rocked through him, and his ears opened again to outside sounds and these too invaded like battalions. The slightest whispers screamed to him, and Inuken screamed. 

He tore his hand away from what he'd been holding and found a handful of splintered wood. He grunted, finally paying attention to the tree that bore the brunt of his struggle. A large hole marred the poor thing where his hand had been. Raising his hands to his face, Inuken nearly choked at what he saw. 

Claws. He no longer had neat fingernails, or even the ragged and dirty nails of a male teenager. He had claws, long and gleaming, claws that had ripped easily through the poor tree's bark and could just as easily do the same to a person. 

"Inuken-san?"

The sound made him jump. Aya hadn't spoken loudly, but his senses were on overload, and he'd felt her word as a sharp and unkind poke. He jerked his head to see her starting towards him again. This time he heard the growl, felt his lips curl and the snarl form.

"Stay back. I don't know—" The growl grew when she ignored him. "STAY BACK, BITCH!" This time she stopped, mouth dropping open. Inuken retreated from her. Behind Aya stood Miroku and Sango, Mineko a short distance beyond. The two humans gazed on him with shock matching Aya's, but Mineko remained as damned impassive as their first meeting. He wanted to fight her. His hands convulsed as he stared at her. He wanted to fight her, rip her open and litter the ground with her entrails. Or better, to conquer her, to grab her and—

__

What's wrong with me?!?

"Inuken," Miroku moved forward slowly, hands out in front of him, "calm down. Listen to me. I think I know what's happening, but you have to calm down so I can tell you. Do you understand?"

Sure he understood. He understood perfectly well. The man wanted to talk, but who _was_ the man again? The smell wafting from him was familiar, but distinctly masculine, meaning rival. The women all had familiar scents, one less familiar than the others' but still a scent he knew. The man kept moving forward and talking, but the words weren't important. Did the man lead this pack? Then these must be his females. Females must be won, so the man must be a strong fighter. Hmph. He would fight the man, kill him and win the females for himself. Yes. Good plan. 

He, who no longer remembered his own name, turned fully toward his opponent and snapped, showing off his fangs. Let the other see how strong he was! With a grin, he launched towards his enemy, claws extended and ready to tear into tender human flesh. 

So intent on his prey in front of him, he never saw the movement of the female. The flat-side of a sword hit him squarely on the back of the head, and Inuken crumpled to the ground.

End Chapter Seven.


	9. Chapter Eight: Où les Anges Craignent

****

Authors Notes: Someone in this chapter has a potty mouth! Tain't me! Teehee! For those who might be wondering, the chapter title is "Where the Angels Fear" or as close an approximation as the online translator could give me. Yes, I know I've never translated a chapter title before. I may never do it again. ::grin:: 

****

Warning: Lots of information ahead. By this, I mean explanations of stuff from the Inuyasha plot that Inuyasha fans will already know, just put into context for this fanfic. Also, maybe some spoilers for some people, depending on how far into the series they are.

****

Thankies: Pleiades-sama: Whee!! ::huggles:: Fuuzaki-chan: Bah, baka grown up type people, ne? Tensei-chan: Bah, baka male type people, ne? ::hands Tensei-chan THE sledgehammer:: Satan's Mistress: Bah, baka… uh… ::snuggles Inuyasha:: 

****

Disclaimers: ::sigh:: Inuyasha and his gumi don't belong to me, precisely. Neither does Aya. Inuken does, though! He's mine! So is Mineko, and Toushiko, and Rei and Akseh and all those other OCs I dun wanna name right now.

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapitre Huit - Où les Anges Craignent

Rin found Jaken's body at the edge of the forest three days after his disappearance. Though Sesshoumaru-sama's warning had her braced for his vanishing, it had not readied her for such a blatantly cruel message. Jaken's head lay two feet from his body, his arms three feet in separate directions, and one leg was missing completely. Rin sobbed, then found a bush in which to be sick. 

Once her stomach was emptied, Rin went about the task of collecting Jaken's parts for burial. She was not at all certain he would have done the same for her, but after all, she was human while he had been youkai. Not many youkai cared about humans, and humans, for the most part, cared little about youkai. Rin found, however, that in the end the distinction between the two had little meaning. Jaken had been something of a companion, so she honored his memory as she would that of a decent human being. She buried him at the edge of her clearing, certain that there his body would not be disturbed. Only with this done could Rin go on to pay her respects elsewhere.

Orange sunlight, borne of late evening, flowed in streamlets through holes in the forest's dark foliage. At the Northern-most edge of her magic-seeming clearing stood a strange statue, and to this Rin carried a small plate of bread and fruits. At first sighting the statue seemed only a large, man-sized crystal of unknown origin, grey like shadow and dim even when lighted by the sun. As she approached closer, though, Rin was able to see the figure inside the crystal. She kneeled before this odd icon, placing her offering on the ground. Her eyes lifted to meet the ones within the crystal prison, eyes golden and slitted, that had only rarely shown kindness.

"Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Rin." His form coalesced beside his prison, a ghost-body to replace the one lost. "Your offering is pointless." He made the same statement each time, to which she made the same reply.

"If my attention keeps you in this world, then perhaps one day other people will know and remember you, and you will become a kami. Then you will be able to go anywhere and be no longer confined to this place." Rin grinned. "Besides, it gives me something to do."

"If it pleases you." Translation: I can't stop you, so you might as well proceed. 

Rin sighed, moving her gaze from the transparent form of Sesshoumaru to the dim version resting inside the crystal. Thirteen years trapped had not marred the perfect youkai beauty of Rin's surrogate father, and she would be inclined to believe his body still lived if not for the spirit that haunted the forest near his resting place. Sesshoumaru's soul had left his mortal form but could not travel far from it, and so he remained, as did Rin, and together they kept this forest in relative peace. Through it all, however, Rin knew that other thoughts plagued Sesshoumaru.

"Tenseiga still calls?" She asked the question tentatively, never knowing if he would feel inclined to answer or merely fade away if he did not feel so inclined. The subject of Tenseiga could be and often was a touchy one; Sesshoumaru never liked to admit how much the sword meant to him. 

"Hai." He moved around the edge of his body's crystal prison, ghostly eyes trained on the fortress far in the mountains. "It dislikes being so far from its master."

"As its master dislikes being so far from his sword?" 

Sesshoumaru did not reply to that, merely narrowed his eyes in the direction of his people's home. Rin fidgeted; she did not have the sensing ability of a youkai or a miko. She could not smell or sense the things Sesshoumaru did, she could only wait for his decision to inform her. She knew from his actions and sparse words of late that something on the horizon had changed. Somewhere there were people or things that made a difference in the situation but Sesshoumaru had yet to tell her who or where or what. He would have to eventually, she thought. How else could she move to intercept the person or thing?

"I have had contact with the miko." 

Rin started. What? The miko?

"Sesshoumaru-sama, which miko do you mean? There are many, and I have seen none . . . ." Of course he could not mean a living miko, because he could not leave the clearing and no living being other than Rin could enter. That meant a miko who had crossed, and there could be only one he would have any reason to converse with. "W-What purpose could you have in speaking with that one?"

"She sees much from her place on the other side. Not all of it she will share, but she has agreed to reveal more when the time comes." Sesshoumaru looked down on her, mask-like face diaphanous with the approach of night, and Rin felt the advance of more words with more meaning than she had ever heard him speak. "There is much happening she will not tell, but this much she did say, that our enemies are stranger than even we can imagine." He paused again, and Rin could almost conceive worry in his translucent expression. "There are others coming who can help in defeating the enemies. You do not have to remain if you do not wish to, Rin."

Rin wondered at his words. Did he truly suppose she would leave him now, when the course of events finally was changing? She smiled, batting back tears with her eyelids. 

"Baka." She dared to say it only because she knew, in some way, he worried for her. "You didn't leave me to death by wolves, nor will I leave you to suffer this spirit-state alone. If you go after vengeance for your current condition, I will follow. If you seek only the destruction of those who have usurped your land and position, then I seek that as well. I seek what you seek, Sesshoumaru-sama, and desire what you desire. It has been this way since I was a girl, and will be this way until I am a spirit." She decided it would, for the moment, be prudent to leave out her hope that her spirit always be near his. 

Sesshoumaru's silence as he watched her made Rin turn her gaze downward. Without fail he could make her feel shame for the most trivial of things, or for her innermost feelings. Rin doubted this was purposeful; Sesshoumaru merely did not understand the nuances of human emotion. Could human emotion really be so far removed from youkai emotion? 

"As you wish," he finally said, his only concession to her frailer human feelings. Could it be her imagination, or did a smile play on his ethereal lips?

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

As the group moved through the trees, Miroku watched the sky for signs. The full moon was three nights past. Inuken would need to remember that. Miroku scolded himself for not thinking sooner about this particular complication. Damn, he wished he'd been paying more attention, but what could have made him think to? Inuken hadn't shown any marks of discomfort, nor of any impending change until the howl that brought them all out to check on him. The boy hadn't spoken of any changes, nor of feeling strange. Why, then—

"Miroku-san, what's happening?" Aya tugged at his sleeve, pulling Miroku's attention away from his internal thoughts and back to the present. He looked down at the red-rimmed, watery pair of violet eyes and sighed. Gesturing for them to stop, Miroku turned fully to Aya.

"I'll tell you when Inuken wakes. I'd prefer to tell it all at once, and I'm hoping he will be coherent."

"Will he? Look at him!" Aya gestured to where Sango and Mineko worked to tie Inuken to a tree, panic lighting the red-haired girl's gaze. Miroku didn't need to look again, but did. 

Inuken was hardly recognizable; the change had not been merely psychological but physical. Claws several inches long and deadly sharp decorated his hands, and while awake Inuken's normally golden eyes had bled crimson in a manner eerily familiar. Perhaps the most noticeable change, however, was the hair that drifted down to touch Inuken's shoulders. Instead of midnight black, the strands were moonlight silver with black only at the very ends. From this silver hair, at the top of Inuken's head, two dog ears flicked unconsciously to follow outside sounds. In short, the boy had gone from mostly human to approximately hanyou in the span of a few moments.

The ears began to twitch more fervently. Miroku put a hand on Aya's shoulder and pulled her away from Inuken. He motioned for Sango and Mineko to move back as well. He thought they did so more because of uncertainty than any trust in him. As the four watched on, Inuken stirred, and a groan issued from him.

"N-Nani?" Inuken's eyes, still crimson, blinked and tried to settle into focus. 

"Inuken-san!" Aya started to move toward the boy, but Miroku tightened his grip on her shoulder. 

"We don't know if he's completely coherent yet."

"Nnh?" Inuken reacted to the sound of their voices, orienting on where they stood with uncanny precision for someone who still had yet to focus.

"Inuken, do you know who I am?" Miroku peered closely at the boy but took no step closer. 

"M-Miroku-san?" 

"Hai." The monk sighed and smiled. "Do you remember what happened?"

The boy paused, then slowly shook his head as those eerie eyes finally fell into proper focus. Miroku shuddered involuntarily at the memories those eyes caused to surface. Inuyasha, grinning as blood soaked his claws. Inuyasha, laughing as human men fell beneath his grip. Inuyasha, so lost in his blood-lust that even Kagome's voice failed to reach him. Miroku forced these visions away in order to save Inuyasha's son from reliving those moments. 

"You . . . attacked us, Inuken. The villagers were frightened. We had to leave the village and come to the forest. Something has happened to you, and I think I know what, but I need you able to listen fully to me before I explain." 

Sango's worried gaze met his, and Miroku saw the same anxiety in those dark eyes that he felt. She knew as much as he did, remembered the same things. Surely she had reached the same conclusion. 

"Tell me." Inuken spoke with few words, and those were given in a barely human growl. The blue-slitted scarlet eyes, however, revealed very human fear. Whatever else Inuken had become, he retained enough humanity to worry about his state, and that was more than Inuyasha had been able to do. Given this small piece of reassurance, Miroku took a deep breath.

"All hanyou, such as your otou-san, have a time during every month when their youkai blood recedes, leaving them completely human. This happened to Inuyasha, and during that time he did not sleep, and was wary of interaction even with his friends." Miroku watched Inuken carefully to make sure the boy was listening. There came no movement from the half-hanyou save the possibly unconscious twitching of his ears. "There are very few hanyou, Inuken. They're rarer than people might think, but there are enough of them for the consequences of being hanyou to be readily known." Miroku paused again, but getting no reaction from his audience, had to continue. "As far as we know, you are the only half-hanyou. None of us knew what to expect from you, either in power or in consequences. Not even Inuyasha knew if the same rules would apply to you, if you would experience the same loss of power that he did."

Next to him, Aya gasped. Mineko released a strange sound, one Miroku couldn't classify, but showed she was listening. Sango remained silent. Inuken glared.

"What are you saying?" The boy snarled, showing fangs beneath his lips at least twice the length they had been. "My parents had me not knowing a fucking thing about what would happen?!?"

"No one knew what would happen, Inuken." Miroku knew he had to proceed cautiously, and even then would likely get burned. The boy did not seem in any mood to be patient or understanding. "I believe what has happened to you is the opposite of Inuyasha's transformation. Instead of losing all of the power of your youkai heritage, you've gained more. I would say you are around a hanyou in power, perhaps a bit more considering your particular heritage."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Inuken began to struggle against the ropes that bound him, and Miroku knew they had little time before the half-hanyou—

or hanyou?— managed to free himself. He had to be calmed before then.

"Your otou-san had another transformation, Inuken, one he did not like to think about. Be calm, and listen." Miroku watched the boy fight back his urge to break free. "The youkai who fathered your otou-san was not just any youkai, Inuken. He was the Lord of the Inu Youkai, a taiyoukai. A great youkai."

"Inuken-san is a prince?" Aya offered the question tentatively, her gaze trained on her transformed friend. 

"Of a sort, yes. His oji-san, Sesshoumaru, is the first in line to inherit and naturally his offspring would be first in line after him. If he should, for any reason, be unable to take power, however, it would fall to Inuyasha and through Inuyasha, to Inuken."

Inuken was unimpressed.

"What the hell does any of this have to do with what's happening to me?" Miroku noticed the boy's hands twitching, as if those claws itched to seek out flesh and rip. 

"Taiyoukai blood is different than normal youkai blood, more powerful. The Lord of the Inu Youkai had two sons, one by his first wife, another youkai, and the second by his second wife, a human woman. His first son, being full youkai, could safely assimilate his otou-san's blood."

"Sesshoumaru," Sango offered, and Miroku nodded.

"The second son, however, being hanyou, could not. The blood of a taiyoukai is far too powerful for the half-mortal body of a hanyou." The monk paused in his explanation to check Inuken. The boy had ceased twitching, all attention on the story. "The Inu Lord knew what would happen to his youngest son should he take no steps to prevent it; the boy would be overcome by the taiyoukai blood in his system. It would eat away at his mind until he became nothing more than a mindless beast, capable only of fighting and killing."

"Otou-san?" Inuken's voice lost some of the harshness, for one moment becoming the voice of a frightened child. 

"Hai." Miroku nodded, careful to keep his expression neutral in case Inuken should interpret any emotion as hostile. "Inuyasha's otou-san created a sword to seal away most of his son's taiyoukai blood, and guard the boy's life. None of this was known, not even by Inuyasha, until an oni bit through the blade of Tetsusaiga and it broke. After that, whenever Inuyasha was cornered in battle, when it came down to his life or death, his taiyoukai blood would come forward and transform him into the closest approximation of a full youkai he could achieve without the Shikon no Tama. However, it also made him violent, and mindless. Until the transformation ended, Inuyasha would kill anyone and anything across his path." Miroku stopped, and waited. He watched Inuken for signs of recognition, of comprehension. When Sango or Aya seemed close to making the connection for the boy, Miroku stopped them. Inuken had to understand for himself.

"Y-You mean . . . that this is the blood that changed me now?"

"Hai."

Inuken paused, crimson eyes slipping from one of them to the next, like hunter looking for prey. Miroku could not be completely sure of any sort of thought process going on behind those eyes, so he kept himself and his companions quiet, waiting for a sign that Inuken either grasped the last strand, or did not. Ever so slowly, the lips parted again and words slid past the fangs.

"I wasn't in danger. I wasn't fighting a fucking thing. So you're telling me this will happen to me every fucking month for the rest of my life?!?"

When Miroku nodded again, Inuken burst into a flurry of obscenities the monk hadn't been aware the boy knew, let alone could say. The transformed half-hanyou strained against the ropes and some of them snapped. Miroku moved forward, not yet knowing what he planned to do if Inuken gained freedom. 

Mineko beat Miroku. She was at Inuken's side in a moment, kneeled, and her clawed fist came down across the boy's face without the mercy any of the humans would have shown. The blow seemed to do little more than shock Inuken. 

"Be still, child," the neko youkai hissed. "Your rash actions have already expelled us from a comfortable place to sleep tonight, as well as ruined my attempts to create an alliance with these humans." She stopped, watched Inuken, then continued. "It is probably true that your parents thought little of the consequences of having a child that would be half-hanyou. Few people in love do think at all, let alone when the desire for children comes upon them. Certainly your otou-san's sire did not think of what might happen to a hanyou child of his _before_ marrying and impregnating a human, else your otou-san might never have been born." Mineko stared at Inuken as she spoke, her golden eyes never wavering from his crimson stained orbs. Miroku realized that she spoke calmly and bluntly, but also with perfect candor, and her choice of words was designed to make the boy stop and think, to actually process what she said instead of just react. "Neither your otou-san nor his sire thought of the cruelty of bringing such a child into the world, nor of the cruelties such a child would have to endure once in the world. However, it is done and cannot be undone. You are here, and this is your life. It would be prudent of you to stop and think, as your parents did not, before you do something regrettable." 

Mineko stood and turned away from the boy. Inuken sat slumped back against the tree trunk, silent, eyes narrowed and contemplative. The neko youkai arched an eyebrow at Miroku, as though saying _Stupid bozou, we couldn't wait for you to get around to doing something._

"Well," Miroku finally said, "Why don't we make camp here? Mineko-san, we will stop in many more human villages, and you've already proven valuable to us. Perhaps we can help you in return. Should you choose to stay with us, I would not protest."

Sango snorted, shook her head and began polishing Hiraikotsu. Aya smiled tentatively, but her gaze remained on Inuken, who hadn't moved since Mineko's speech. As for the neko herself, Mineko gave no immediate answer, instead choosing to keep silent but not leave. Miroku sighed and set about collecting firewood on his own. He had things to think about, and, apparently, so did Inuken.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Toushiko turned over the third card. Once more the Black Inu stared up at her, but the spread gave her no answers, and the visions swirling behind her eyes spoke only riddles. The three cards were the same three cards that she pulled in all her previous readings that day, including for her customer. Toushiko knew immediately the message had not been meant for the quiet child sitting across from her, and sent him away. She took no more clients, closed her tent, and drew cards again and again. Even when she took them from the deck, placed them elsewhere and drew, somehow she still managed to pull the same three cards. 

Power. An enemy among them, seeking something ultimate.

Battle. A confrontation to come, with consequences for all involved.

The Black Inu. 

Toushiko remembered them clearly from the day Akseh first entered her life personally. Why did they insist on showing themselves now? She already knew about the enemy, and a battle would be imminent once they showed themselves to the Inu people. The Black Inu was always present when there came Battle. Generalities, and no answers! What message lurked within the glossed pictures, and why would they appear to her now, when Akseh had not been seen since his attack on her?

The questions swirled inside with the unanswered visions, the brief flashes of sword and claw, of golden eyes and black hair, and twin heads of red. There were others, not yet clear, but none of them held the answers she sought. Not even the boy or his red-haired companions. Perhaps if she could See them better, but that was not in her control. 

It was not fair! What purpose to this Gift if it gave no explanation to things such as these? Never before had her visions remained so vague so close to the event itself, and it was not fair! 

Toushiko stood in a sudden burst of anger and pushed over the table, sending cards flying. Her small hands contracted into fists at her sides, trembling with ire. From her throat rose a sound somewhere between a scream and a cry. So frustrating! 

Training and intuition kept her from moving, however, until all the scattered cards came to rest. Golden eyes followed the last card as it fluttered to the ground, beside two others, and Toushiko's odd sound became a full scream.

Power. Battle. The Black Inu.

End Chapter Eight


	10. Chapter Nine: L'erreur du Prêtre

****

Authors Notes: ::sits and stares blankly at the audience… can't think of a single thing to say to them… oh wait, something's coming…:: FROINLAVEN!

****

Thankies: Fuuzaki-chan! Tensei-chan! Satan's Mistress! PLEIADES-SAMA! Um… anyone else who's reading. And all of the helpful staff at Barnes & Noble! YEAH! Except that one lady… she's mean. ::pouts::

****

Disclaimers: Dammit, I'm getting tired of these. ::gets beaten by the lawyers always on hand in case of a situation such as this:: OKAY! ::sighs and rattles off the disclaimer:: Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama, Aya and all WK related chars (thought there are no others to be seen) belong to whoever the hell created them 'cause it sure weren't me, and all the OCs in here belong to ME! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Anyone want to know what the chapter title means? Either e-mail me, or copy and paste the thing into the translator at freetranslation.com. Heh. 

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapitre Neuf - L'erreur du Prêtre

In the span of a few moments, an age can pass. Likewise can an age last only a day or two, and so it seemed to be as morning came again to the Northern fortress, where not only did Time distort, but Truth. Lies permeated the life of a stronghold inhabitant, lies so subtle they remained buried despite their complete dominance of life. Misplaced wraiths slipped in and out of the isolated society, seen only by the one person none of them would truly believe. 

Hephzibah had not thought on the fortune-teller since the day of Akseh's reading. The child-like woman simply did not stand out in Hephzibah's mind, not as someone who had the power to oppose them. Perhaps she Saw more than the rest of her people, but Seeing was merely Seeing. So long as that was all the fortune-teller did, there could be no danger to the Lord or his plan. 

In one of the many bedchambers within the Lord's palace, Hephzibah pondered these thoughts and waited patiently. Not many, even within their own ranks, knew that the Lord had chosen Hephzibah as his preferred lover. Oh, such a powerful leader could have any lover he chose, of course, and partook of his enemies often as a form of punishment. 

Hephzibah curled thin fingers into a fist. Pain flared through the hand as nails bit into frail flesh, but Hephzibah paid it no mind. The thought of the prisoners the Lord often used, and one in particular, brought up thoughts of the Lord's obsession, which his lover cared little for. It was just as well that when the Lord wanted pleasure instead of torture, he came to Hephzibah. Perhaps, in time, Hephzibah could turn the Lord's obsession away from prisoners and onto the proper object. The chosen one sighed at the thought, uncurled the now blood-stained fingers and stretched out over the large futon provided. One of his gentler moments had come, and the Lord ordered Hephzibah to wait for him within this room. Hephzibah obeyed, though the room was a small one, not fit for such a revered Lord or his lover. Ah well. Any place would do.

Hephzibah sat up, taking a moment to brush back auburn curls with slender fingers in a way hopefully striking. Beauty was all when one was lover to the Lord, and beauty was something Hephzibah had in abundance. Choosing a body had been difficult, for few mortals had sufficient elegance of form to satisfy the most demanding of lovers from their realm, and the Lord certainly was demanding. A slow chuckle echoed through the room as Hephzibah rose and went to one of the few mirrors in the palace. This one hung on the wall across from the door. Hephzibah studied the body clothed in a woman's pale blue kimono, the slender shoulders framed by carefully draped folds of cloth. 

Then Hephzibah unwound the cloth keeping the kimono closed and let the material slide slowly from the smooth human skin, revealing the body so different from the one Hephzibah would normally have chosen.

The arms were slender, but quite muscular, the arms of a warrior. He had been a boy, very young at the moment of death, and pretty in the way most women would kill for. When Hephzibah killed him and took the body, the boy had been somewhat gaunt. That was fixed with a bit of power from the Lord. Possessed by Hephzibah, the body no longer needed to eat. Still slender, the body was healthy and quite lovely. 

"Yes, you are lovely."

Hephzibah gasped and turned, feeling heat rush to the borrowed face. The Lord stood in the doorway, handsome and magnificent, and smirking at catching his lover's mortal-like vanity. 

"M-My Lord—"

"Quiet. Stammering suits you not." The Lord moved forward, frightening Hephzibah a bit with the strong, determined stride. The exquisite face wore a terrible smile that nearly caused the servant to take a step back from his master, but that would have meant misery in return. Instead, he remained rooted to the spot, immobile and exposed as the Lord approached, reached up, and placed a gentle hand on Hephzibah's cheek. "How goes the quest of my enemies?"

The one who wore the auburn-haired form had to calm his trembling before answering. 

"It goes slowly, My Lord, for the boy has a problem he must learn to control before their party can proceed."

"And the girl?" The Lord continued as a clawed finger trailed oh-so-lightly down Hephzibah's cheek to his throat. 

"The girl seems unimportant. She has no fighting skills and no magic. She is neither warrior nor priestess. I fail to see why the boy even keeps her." Hephzibah shuddered as that claw brushed his shoulder, and the trembling began anew but for a different reason. 

"There is something," The Lord replied, "for at times like these there are no coincidences or random people." He shrugged and his eyes languidly followed the trek of his claw down Hephzibah's arm. "The monk and the woman soldier are formidable, of course, but in the end they matter not. What of the new one?"

"She is what they call a 'youkai', one of the myriad monsters in this world, one of the cat people from the Western valley. She has the powers inherent in her people, but none that can match yours." Fear began to melt into lust as the Lord's hand started to roam in earnest. "My Lord," Hephzibah breathed.

"She has a purpose," The Lord said, ignoring Hephzibah's half-spoken plea. "I doubt she will be more than a nuisance, though. It is the boy I really worry about, and the girl he brought with him. They are the major players, and I would have their roles cut from the play."

"Yes, My Lord." No matter what was said, this was the only answer Hephzibah could ever give, and knew it. It was the only answer he could will himself to give. The Lord's hands gripped Hephzibah's hips tightly suddenly, claws digging into the tender mortal skin. At his lover's gasp, the Lord merely smiled. That face looked so serene as it lowered to Hephzibah's.

"Hephzibah, love, is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

Only one other thing came to mind.

"My Lord, I am yours."

Laughter filled the room even as the Lord maneuvered their two bodies to the futon and lowered Hephzibah down. Of course, what a foolish statement, something the Lord already knew. As Time refused to flow correctly outside, the Lord stroked his lover slowly, showing exactly how he owned Hephzibah's body. Then he showed how he owned Hephzibah's soul.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Inuken floated peacefully in his own world. A nice, dark world, with no lights and no thought. Just darkness and instinct. That world burst brightly into flames without warning, and red bled through his vision, forcing Inuken to open his eyes and come up from the oblivion of sleep. The red was the sun shining through his eyelids, the fire burning his dark world was the light taking over the darkness. Damn the light. Damn the fucking sun.

And damn those stupid fucking birds! Damn them to all the seven fucking hells seven times over! Why couldn't they just shut the fuck up? Didn't they know all that constant twittering hurt his ears? Fucking balls of feather, he'd like to chase them all down and—

Wait, birds never hurt his ears before. Inuken jerked fully awake with that thought, looked down over the lengths of rope still holding him to the tree, and the claws still gracing his hands in menacing form. For a terrible moment no thought at all entered his mind as Inuken stared down at those claws. Then, slowly, came images of the things he could tear apart with those claws. No coherent thought, just the imaginings of someone half-mad with blood-lust filling the empty mind behind crimson eyes. As those images surged and tumbled through his mind, somewhere down in the depths screamed another Inuken, a boy who just wanted to find his parents. 

Okay. Coherent thought. Must think. Morning had come, he should be normal. Fuck. Inuken closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in all the scents of the forest around him, including those of his fellow intruders. The neko, Mineko, and what a damn fine piece of neko she was, _except that's not a fucking coherent thought!_ Mineko's scent placed her further from the camp than should be necessary unless she perhaps gathered firewood for a flame to cook the morning meal. Yes, she was definitely moving, and gods wouldn't he like to watch that fluffy white tail—

Aya's scent was subtle and stationary, close by. She was still asleep. Though not as forceful as Mineko's scent, the smell of apples clung softly to her and gods that was nice. Aya was a nice girl, and pretty, and she had a great smile and damn if only he could get her to—

Okay, okay, Sango. Hardly interesting. Sango's scent had a masculine air of sweat and fire smoke and exertion. How could Miroku even be half as attracted to her as he was? He WAS attracted to her. Maybe normal Inuken couldn't tell, but the super-powered nose currently plastered to his face cut through all of Miroku's bullshit and picked up the definite smell of male attraction. How the hell did the monk manage to control himself?

__

The same fucking way you're going to have to, considering all the pheromones flying around.

Gods damn it all. Control was highly overrated. At least, it could be when there were two very attractive females so damn close—

Coherent thought. Coherent thought good. 

Miroku. Miroku was closer than Sango or Mineko, and besides, Inuken didn't particularly care to speak to the uptight Taijiya, nor did he think, once considering the idea carefully, that bringing Mineko any closer would be a very safe notion. So Inuken opened his eyes again, this time not blinded by the morning light, and spotted the monk sitting directly across from him.

"What the fuck is going on?" Subtlety had its place, but its place was not to be in this particular camp. "You said I should be normal in the morning! You godsdamned fucking SAID the transformation would only last the night!"

"I said Inuyasha's transformation only lasted a night. I also said we didn't know anything about what would happen with you." Only the very serious and very worried expression on the monk's face kept Inuken from snapping the ropes and biting his head off right then and there. Aya, awakened at Inuken's shout, rose from her place and sat next to the monk, eyes half closed and hair in disarray. Gods he wished she would brush her hair, because that lovely mane of red in such a state made him wish it was that way because—

"So this is another fucking random thing I just have to muddle through?" GODS! Everything about this whole thing was so fucking RANDOM!

"Inuken-san," Aya offered tentatively, "you should watch your language."

"I'll tell you what I'd like to watch," he replied, eyes trained on the small but shapely breasts he'd only just noticed, "I'd—"

A hard hand smacked the top of his head from behind. Inuken growled and turned as well as he could to see Sango standing there, collected sticks in one hand, the other poised to strike again. She didn't look happy. In fact, she looked downright fucking unpleasant. 

"Your okaa-san taught you better manners, baka. Don't speak to a lady like that."

"My okaa-san didn't have enough time to teach me better manners!"

"Your obaa-san then."

Damn. 

Okay, maybe that hadn't been such a great thing to say, even if he didn't get to finish, and he probably _should_ watch his mouth from now on. Coherent thought good. Inuken sighed, which felt extremely odd while still tied to a tree, and asked the question foremost on his mind.

"So, what the fu—what do I do now??"

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Beneath the palace of the Inu Youkai Lord stretched a seemingly endless hallway of closed and locked cells. The only light in this dank passage came from a line of single torches placed every ten feet or so down the line. The torches were small, hence their flames gave off little illumination. The white paint on the cells' wooden doors was the only detail revealed by these small lights. Someone standing outside a cell would not be able to see the person inside clearly, and vice versa. 

In the hallway outside the cells stood a girl. She had grown just under five feet, and though her body had begun to curve with the hints of womanhood, she had not yet had her first woman's time. Her waist length silver hair glittered dully in the dim torchlight, shadows hiding her eyes from those who may be watching. Her ears pointed in the manner of youkai in human form, and she wore a simple but refined white kimono. Though she carried a tray of food in her hands, she did not carry herself in the manner of a servant. 

This girl stepped in carefully measured steps down the hallway. Her mind was intent on a specific cell with a specific prisoner, though counting her steps was one of the only ways to make certain she chose the correct cell. There were so many, and only a few currently occupied. The Lord promised the rest would fill quickly once he mastered the Object and began his true campaign. 

"Hey, hey onna," came a rasp from one of the occupied cells, "come here, wouldya?" 

The girl ignored the voice and the hand that reached from the barred window towards her. Her face remained serene through her entire trek, no expression gracing those young features. One might assume she did not understand the words being spoken, or even hear them, for all the reaction she gave. 

At last her mental litany of steps ended before a particular white door. The torches this far down the line were especially dim, for the servants who kept the fires lit often chose not to come this far. The child was not tall enough to see within this door's window, for it rested at the top of the wood surface, but she could have seen little anyway. 

Instead of trying to see inside, the girl merely stepped forward as the cell's lock clicked open of its own accord. The door swung open on invisible hands, closing the same way once the girl was through. Once inside, she stood just within the boundaries of the door, moving no closer.

At the opposite end of the cell sat a small, gaunt figure draped in darkness. This was the oldest prisoner in the dungeons, here since the girl could remember. There were rumors among the ranks of the Lord's people, but she paid none of them any mind. They did not hold up against the reality, which was a thin and exhausted woman, who had been used so many times by the Lord the only miracle about her was that she had not broken down into madness. The woman was the Lord's favorite plaything, he seemed obsessed with her, and the girl felt . . . she felt . . . 

She did not know what she felt. Her father wanted her to feel nothing but scorn, if even that much, for any of the prisoners here and especially the woman. The girl could not bring herself to that, however, though neither could she bring herself to feel pity or compassion. She did not bring the woman food out of either of those emotions, but simple curiosity. What sort of human creature could so capture the attentions of the Lord? 

"I brought you good food," she said into the shadows, unaware that her voice came thickly from her lips. She waited for a response, any response, but as always there was nothing. The woman refused to speak to her. The girl had brought food from the kitchens once a week for two years, since she was ten summers old and first discovered the identity of the human woman the Lord so constantly asked for. Not once in any of her visits had the woman spoken. 

Perhaps she was mad after all. Perhaps she could only muster sanity enough to protest when actually in the clutches of that which drove her mad. Gods knew that she did not speak and barely moved while sitting alone, or even with sparse company, in her cell below. 

The girl laid down her tray next to the silent prisoner. The woman also never ate while the girl was present, though when she returned for the tray it was always empty. 

"The Lord grows in strength," she said, knowing she would get no response. "He is close to mastering the Object, and when he does that no one will be able to stop him." The girl waited quietly to see if there came any reaction at all. Was that a flinch? "I offer my services to you in that time, great lady." She did not know why she called the woman that, except that she had once heard the term in reference to another of that kind and it stuck. "When the Lord gains ultimate power, I will do my best to get to you before he does, and kill you mercifully, as he will not."

Again, she knew not why she offered such a thing, for the woman had never shown her courtesy or kindness or even said so much as a word. It was merely something the girl knew she had to do, and that was enough for her. It seemed to be enough for the woman as well. For the first time that form shifted, and dark eyes turned to glare on the girl.

Suddenly the rumors had merit. Within the depths of those eyes sang deep power, strong power, a power that held this woman up and kept her going. The girl could see all of that with only a glimpse. What would happen if the woman spoke? After waiting for words for so long, the girl found she feared what would be said. What of the other rumors? What if they were also true?

She turned her face away from the woman, tilting her head downward to the hard-packed earth floor of the cell. There she could understand nothing, so whatever the woman might have said was lost, if she spoke at all. 

"I will return later for the tray," the girl said, backing away with eyes still lowered. Behind her the door unlocked and opened the same way it had when she entered. She turned quickly and nearly fled from the darkness inside to the only marginally less darkness outside. Freedom beckoned her there, freedom from speculation and rumor, and freedom from those eyes that sang of power, but also of a sorrow the girl could not understand. Freedom, ultimately, could not be found within the fortress of the Lord. 

So intent on escape she did not think to watch, the girl nearly ran straight into the person standing just outside the cell. Only slender, rough hands catching her shoulders stopped her. The girl, surprised, took her eyes from the ground and looked up and into the feminine face of the Lord's lover.

"What are you doing here, Anja?" Hephzibah's lips curled with an unhappy scowl, making it difficult to understand him. "I thought I told you not to come here anymore. Your father would be upset with you if he knew."

Of course he would. What ruler would want his daughter being kind to his most valued and hated prisoner? Anja took the question to be a rhetorical one, therefore, and did not answer. Hephzibah's face tightened even more than it already was, if that were possible, his lips pressing into a nearly invisible line. 

"Go on, Anja. Go play outside or something. Or flirt with one of the golden-eyed idiots. You're old enough for that now." The Lord's lover shooed Anja away, only reserving a rude shove because he knew he would be punished for laying hands on her. Anja turned and left. Though she knew the signs, she could do nothing to stop what was coming, even if she felt so inclined.

Hephzibah's mere presence was enough, but his angry melancholy and tight, jealous expression spoke even more. The Lord had called for the woman, either feeling the need for sport or to try again to break her. Hephzibah hated the Lord's obsession, both the emotion and the object of it herself. He was not, however, stupid enough to kill her. The Lord's retribution fell swiftly and without mercy. All Hephzibah could do was obey and hold his tongue. 

Anja found that image amusing as she stepped from the darkness of below into the light of above.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The group couldn't stay in one place for long, especially not so close to the village where Inuken changed. So, convinced by his behavior that he could conduct himself in a manner appropriate to travel with them, Miroku and Sango untied Inuken and allowed him to walk around free as they trekked. Throughout the day he remained ahead of them, surprised by his own speed and agility. Several birds' nests were disrupted by a romping half-hanyou on a power trip.

Below him, restricted to the ground, strode the three humans and neko youkai. Actually, Mineko could probably join him in the trees if she liked, she just didn't like. Not that he wanted her with him anyway. He just met her, and she hadn't made the best of first impressions. Then there was the whole punching him thing. Guys were NOT supposed to be punched by girls. Of that he was quite fucking sure. 

Damn, watch the language. 

"Hold on," Miroku said suddenly. Inuken stopped on a branch right above the party, looking down through the foliage. He took a moment before Miroku spoke again to observe the setting of the sun. They'd been walking all day and sunset approached. "There's a village just over this hill I'm familiar with. I stayed here a few years ago, when Inuken was about two."

"That was _sixteen_ years ago, houshi-sama." Sango shook her head and set Hiraikotsu to lean against a tree. 

"A few years ago, I know." Miroku smiled at the woman, who did not smile back. "Perhaps I still have some influence with the people. Sango-san and I look more normal than—"

"I'm not normal looking?" Aya sounded distinctly irritated, and Inuken laughed.

"Not to these people, you're not," he said, enjoying the way being up in the trees allowed him to look down her shirt. "Look at the way Sango's dressed and the way you're dressed."

"Yeah, and the way you're _dressed_," she shot back up at him, putting her hand over her shirt. Damn, she figured him out. Well, she had a point. Not only did he look like a particularly demonic youkai with his crimson eyes, but he still wore his streamlined slacks and button-up shirt from the future. He assumed Miroku and Sango were used to such strange clothing from traveling with his mother. A village full of ignorant peasants would only be frightened. 

Hey, his thoughts were more coherent than ever! A good sign, a really good sign. 

A short conversation later, Miroku and Sango left their three companions in the forest near the village, Sango looking none too happy about being alone with the monk. Inuken didn't hear her complaining, though; apparently she knew Miroku was right and she had to be the one to accompany him. Inuken would be very surprised if he didn't put some moves on her. That brought his mind to the question of why the monk and the Taijiya were not together if they cared for each other so much and so obviously. He thought on that for quite a while, ignoring the conversation of the two females beneath him. What the heck had happened to—

Wait a second. _What the heck?_

In the darkness left behind by the sun's retreat, Inuken looked down at his hands. He couldn't see them as well as he could have the previous night, but he still saw the short, normal, human nails gracing the tips of each of his fingers. Holding his breath, hardly daring to believe, Inuken grabbed a hunk of his hair and pulled it out so he could see. The strands blended completely into the darkness, every last one of them. He laughed. 

"Uh, Aya-san? Mineko . . . –san?" Suddenly being up in a tree didn't feel fun or free. Suddenly it felt like being very high off the ground and in a position to fall to a very quick and painless broken neck. 

"What do you want?" Aya's tone suggested annoyance. Well, she _should_ be annoyed, even angry, after the way he'd been treating her. 

"I . . . uh . . . I t-think I need some help getting down." Inuken wobbled, fell forward, and gripped the tree branch tightly. Oh GODS what had he been thinking?!? 

"You need help?" He watched Aya move in his field of vision, presumably so she could see him better. Even as he tilted to the side, arms wrapped around the branch, he saw her eyes widen. "You're back to normal!"

"Yes, I'm back to normal, now GET ME DOWN!"

The next few minutes saw Aya and Mineko grinning up at him as they casually discussed increasingly odd and unbelievable approaches to getting him down from the tree. Apparently, though he had finally let go of his transformation, neither of them had quite forgiven him for his behavior. At last Mineko simply climbed up to him and hefted him down with her superior youkai strength. After, of course, she managed to get him to let go of the branch. By that time, Inuken had found enough in him to be angry with them.

"I don't know when you two became such good friends, but—"

Sango appeared on the road just behind Aya. Inuken saw her, standing across from his friend, and Sango didn't look happy. In fact, she looked somewhere between going into a rage and sitting down to sob. She didn't even notice Inuken's state, or lack of a state.

"We've got trouble," she said as soon as all three were aware of her presence. 

"What—"

Sango interrupted Aya's question with the answer, free of angry names or propriety.

"Miroku's been accused of rape."

End Chapter Nine. 


	11. Chapter Ten: L’erreur de Seize Années

**Authors Notes: **Rape is a very serious subject, one that many people would like to see swept under the carpet like so much dust and forgotten. Doing so, however, does not make the problem go away. Forgetting does not catch the rapists responsible, does not make the damage disappear, and does not help a person to heal. The statistic Aya gives in this chapter is real. To find it and other rape-related statistics, so to . Remember, also, that women are not the only ones who experience rape, nor are we the only ones angered by the crime. 

On a happier note, I am now settled into my new home (well, for two months) in Lafayette. I start classes and work tomorrow, June 9, 2003. Wish me luck! Well, even though by the time this is finished, betaed, and posted, it'll probably be LONG after June 9th. Heh. I'm working on getting internet connection in my dorm room (oh gods, the dorms…), but for now will have to make do with the tiny computer lab downstairs. Hey, at least the dorms HAVE comp labs. 

**Thankies: **Pleiades-sama: I am coming to rely on you way too much. It's gotten to the point where I can't even begin thinking about writing the next chapter until you've sent back the betaed version of the previous chapter. ::huggles:: Fuuzaki-chan: ::huggles 'til she turns blue:: Satan's Mistress: ::blinks… stares:: Sesshie has a request… something to do with… knees… ::snorts:: Tensei-chan: ::hands her THE sledgehammer:: Here, use it on Dansbury. IronRaven: Hey! You're new! Whee! And I do believe we share a monitor. At least we don't share a brain, like SM and me. THAT would be extremely frightening. Hehe. 

**Disclaimers:** ::sigh:: Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama, not me. Aya and all related Weiss Kruz characters belong to whoever created them, which, unfortunately, wasn't me. The Ghost Roads is a term I got from a_ Buffy the Vampire Slayer book titled __The Book of Fours. I'm not sure if the Ghost Roads are Buffy cannon or not. But the book is great. Inuken, Mineko, Toushiko, Rei, Akseh, Anja, Saytori, Hephzibah, and all those other strange OCs I can't think of at the moment, belong to ME!! HAHAHA! _

Âmes Qui Dorment Chapitre Dix – L'erreur de Seize Années 

"I don't understand," Aya screamed as they rushed towards the night-cloaked village. Within the borders of the huts, however, an orange glow began to flicker into life. "Miroku-san wasn't in the village long enough to rape anyone, even if he would do something like that!"

Sango's face, illuminated in the darkness only by the moon and the glow from the village as they grew closer, stretched tight over strained muscles. Inuken thought he saw a shadow there that had nothing to do with the night's darkness. 

"The woman says he raped her sixteen years ago and ran off before her father could exact proper punishment." The Taijiya's eyes, dark pools of some unnamable expression, floated over hard lines of ripening age and made Inuken shudder at their suggestion of Sango's thoughts. "Her proof is her sixteen year old son."

Though Aya continued to protest the very idea, Inuken said nothing. He didn't believe the accusation any more than Aya, but knew these villagers would be a very tough crowd to convince. History did not immortalize the charity, compassion, or trust of the peasants of the past. Peasants were supposed to be, as a whole, ignorant, uneducated, and superstitious. As with all groups of people who fit this description, probably very little evidence would be required to convict the monk of this alleged crime. The word of the woman, the child in question, and especially the backing of the woman's father would be more than enough. Something else also nagged Inuken's mind. 

"Sango-san," he said quietly, just as the four reached the first of the village huts, "isn't it unusual for the people to back a woman like this? From what I've read in history books on the subject, women who were raped were seen as temptresses. More often than not the crime was seen as the woman's fault, no fault at all given to the man."

"Inuken-san how can you be so naïve?" Aya trotted next to Sango, her shorter legs doing twice the work so she could keep up with the older woman. "You think that's only in the past? Women in our time are scared stiff to admit they've been raped! Do you know how many rapists ever do jail time?"

Inuken had to shake his head.

"Six percent! That's fifteen out of sixteen rapists that walk around in the daytime with decent people." Her fire-red braids flopped on either side of her face as Aya struggled valiantly to remain in step with Sango and Inuken. Her violet eyes glittered as she spoke, face flushed. "There still isn't any justice for people who've been raped!"

"Quiet," Sango said as a group of angry people came into view between their small homes. The glow came from the collection of burning torches in the villagers' hands as they circled around a distraught Miroku. For one horribly insane moment, Inuken felt quite certain the next sound he heard would be someone crying 'Burn the witch!' 

"He gotta either marry my daughter, or die for what he done!" The speaker was a man getting on in years, old but not yet ancient, whose hair had mostly bled out the black in favor of white. His eyes, however, still retained a dark gleam to them that told he had not yet come near the point where he would be ready to give up life. 

"You haven't proven he's done anything!" Aya ran ahead of them, ignoring Sango's shout, and threw herself into the crowd. The small, red-haired girl managed to push and shove her way through the throng to Miroku's side. "You have to prove he's done something wrong before you can punish him!" 

"You callin' my daughter a liar?" The man's lively eyes narrowed at the intruding girl. 

"Maybe," she shot back, unafraid. Inuken felt his heart skip a beat at her fearless, and possibly groundless, accusation. Didn't she know when to just keep quiet?!? "All I know is what I'm hearing and what I know about Miroku-san! Miroku-san is not a rapist!" 

Apparently not. 

Inuken groaned as the angry crowd only became angrier, and the torches that were before only for light in the darkness became more likely weapons. He had no choice; Inuken pushed violently through the crowd, shoving people aside with all the might he could muster from his one-fourth youkai body. Soon enough they began to part for him, and Inuken stood before Aya and Miroku, a shield, and hoped his anger showed in his eyes. 

"I don't give a fuck what you say," he said, trying desperately to sound as menacing as he had only a few short hours ago. "All _I know is you've accused one of my friends, a very good friend." Could they see his fangs in the dim torchlight? Could they see his ears, the golden sheen of his eyes, all of the things that marked him not completely human? In the end it didn't matter, because he would see some way out of this for them all. Inuken turned to Miroku, who stood silent like stone. "Miroku-san, did you . . . did you sleep with the woman?"_

The monk said nothing for a good moment, a long moment in which Inuken saw his gaze flicker to Sango. In that quick motion Inuken read all he needed to know, and his heart slowly dropped into his stomach. 

"Yes."

Aya turned, wide violet eyes looking in shock on Miroku.

"W-What?!?"

"He admits it, see!" The old man hobbled closer, his weight carried on a strong old stick.

"Wait!" Inuken felt the heart in his stomach begin to burn. All eyes were on him, like eyes had never been on him before. He took a moment to catch his breath, to cast a calming glance at Aya and a questioning one to Sango. The Taijiya stood frozen on the outskirts of the crowd, and would be no help. Beyond her, standing apart and in the shadows, Mineko waited. _Okay, okay, you can do this, Higurashi . . . . "You admit to sleeping with her, but did you rape her?"_

"No."

The answer this time came quickly, carried on a strong, sure voice. Miroku said nothing else in his defense. Well, good. Anything else would have sounded like an excuse, or as if he were trying to talk his way out of a sentencing. 

"He lies," said the old man, and the crowd immediately began to roar agreement. The people sided with their own. Miroku was a stranger, and so were his friends. 

Then the crowd parted again, and through their ranks came a middle-aged woman and a boy. The accuser, and her proof. Inuken peered into that once-beautiful face torn by time and saw . . . agony. Fear. Shame.

All the things one would expect to see in the face of a rape victim. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

_"Watch the people, Anja. Watch their faces, but most of all, watch their eyes. The eyes are the windows to the soul, if there is a soul to be found."_

_"Yes, Father."_

_Anja watched, as directed. Only six years old and already she saw the bright lights surrounding the people around her. Father taught her how to look, really look, so those colors came through clearly. Most people had regular colors like red or blue or green. There were some, however, with prettier colors. Some people walked around inside warm drapes of gold light, or even the beautiful, but rare, silver. These people were special, Father told her. These people had Gifts._

_There was a child of the noble houses with a gold light who could find lost objects. He was not old, merely fifty, but already that Gift was strong. Anja pointed the child out to Father, who nodded. He took note of all the people Anja said had prettier lights. He needed her to find them because he couldn't see them. Only Anja could._

_There was an entire family of merchants with gold colors. They had been rich once because they could tell with a handshake whether foreign merchants sold wares as truly wonderful as they claimed, and if said wares would fetch the promised price within the stronghold. But people didn't come from outside anymore, so this family had to make do with business inside. _

_"When people must live on less than they are wont, they look to outside sources to keep them in the manner they wish. Namely, us."_

_Father was a very wise man. _

_Then there was . . . her. An older girl, about twelve, who was the only one Anja had ever seen with a silver light around her, though Father said other people had them. Father sometimes asked some of the people with gold colors to the palace, but he never asked the girl. When Anja asked about her, Father said her name was Toushiko, her Gift was very special, and she was of the Family. It was said, often in whispers people thought Anja couldn't hear, that the Family had a strong, unbroken lineage of the Sight within their bloodline, but only one member within each generation had the Gift. One could never tell which of the children would have the Sight, but one always did. _

_"You do not have the Sight only because Toushiko does," Father told her inside her mind, as he must if she were not looking at him. "If not for her, it would be you seeing visions of the Future. One day it may be possible for you to take that Gift from her, but not yet."_

_Anja wondered why she would want to take another's Gift, but said nothing aloud. She had her own Gifts, and liked them well enough. She could make her own pale violet light glow at her hands, and this light could sometimes burn things, though Anja didn't use it that way often. Only when Father asked. She could burn demons especially well, what the other people called 'youkai'. If she didn't want to burn them, she could just paralyze them. Anja never, ever had to worry about being caught by a demon. _

_"Anja, keep looking. Tell me what you see, who you see."_

_Anja obeyed, because Father asked. She turned her eyes outward again, to the white-haired people so much like herself, except their eyes were gold while hers were blue. There were few outside the palace who even knew Anja lived, and those who did never spoke of her. Father forbade it. Nor did they speak amongst themselves of her blue eyes, the mark of her weakness. If Father heard any such words, he would kill them. He protected her and all of her secrets. _

_She saw no more colors that day. Her young powers exhausted, Anja apologized to Father for being unable to help him more._

_"Worry not, my daughter. As you grow, so will your powers. One day you will be my equal. On that day we will ravage this world together and turn all its people to our service."_

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Rei hefted one bag of rice to his shoulder then picked up the other two with his free hand. He smiled at the rice merchant, an Inu Youkai woman with more centuries on her than most in the stronghold. Inuai was one of the few who still believed in the power of the Sight. Of those who did, fewer still believed Inutoushiko of the Family actually carried the Gift. Rei, Inurei to those without the right to be familiar, knew better. He often overpaid Inuai for her rice because she would listen to Toushiko when others would not. Even Inuai, though, with her centuries of knowledge and experience, knew so little. When Rei carefully broached the subject of possible intruders, a subject Toushiko herself only spoke of after prodding, Inuai protested mightily, claiming the walls of the Inu Youkai fortress the strongest in the land. Nothing and no one could pass those walls or the good Inu Youkai guards standing sentry. 

So much for the wisdom of the old.

Rei pondered as he walked through the market melee. He thought of the vague hints Toushiko dropped, of the fear in her eyes whenever he asked her about those she called 'the Others'. She would not tell him more than they were intruders, with familiar faces. He knew none of them for himself, except the one called Akseh.

Rei didn't feel the growl coming until it passed his curled lips. Akseh had made himself a nuisance, lurking around the tent or the market, always being where least expected, sometimes making contact sometimes not. Rei saw him at times, but surely Toushiko saw Akseh more often. She was trained to look and see things others did not, with or without the Sight. Toushiko remained nervous at all times, and even her readings had been affected. All she could pull from the Destiny cards were three specific cards. The same three cards that had been in Akseh's reading. Was this coincidence? Toushiko would say there are no coincidences. Perhaps Akseh meddled with the cards somehow, though Rei couldn't imagine how. He would have been seen, or if not, Toushiko would sense his energy on the deck. 

When Rei entered the tent, he saw Toushiko no where. 

"Toushiko?"

No answer. Rei dropped the rice bags on the merchandise table. Somewhere between his stomach and his heart a tight ball began to form, but he pushed it down. Just because she didn't answer didn't mean trouble. She could be asleep, or meditating. In either case she wouldn't hear him. He pulled back the heavy cloth divider between tent sections and stepped into the back room. Toushiko did not lie on the pallet made for her. She did not sit in a tent corner, eyes fluttering as she Saw something beyond his reach. 

"Toushiko?" 

Still no answer, and he hadn't really expected one because there were no places to hide in this back room. She couldn't be concealed. Toushiko was not in the tent. 

Toushiko never left the tent alone. The Others had her that afraid to be outside her protections. She would only go if Rei were at her side. 

The knot between his heart and stomach tightened, and this time Rei let it; there had to be trouble if Toushiko had left the tent. Either something so dire had occurred it required her immediate and personal attention, or . . . or . . . 

Or she had not left on her own.

"Toushiko!"

Rei sprinted from the tent, stopping to ask the nearby merchants if they saw which way she went, if they knew where she went, if they knew anything about why Toushiko did not reside within her market tent. They all looked at him with blank expressions—so dead, so strange—and insisted they had seen nothing. Had heard nothing. Knew nothing. Even old Inuai, who sat across from the tent not far down the market street, knew nothing.

"Rei-kun, the girl is very strange, you know that," said Inuai as she poured a bag of rice for a customer. "Everyone warned you against getting involved with her. Even those of us who believe in her power."

"That's not important right now!" Rei stood with fists clenched at his sides, to keep himself from harming the innocent old woman. "I just need to know—"

"Where she went, yes." Inuai sighed and turned wizened, but so blind, golden eyes upward. "We warned you against her not because she is a bad girl. We know she is as sweet and loving as they come. We saw her grow up. But the power of Sight is a terrible thing to carry, young Rei-kun. There have been very few carriers of the Sight who did not go insane from what they Saw."

Rei stood frozen, even as Inuai continued to pour rice and speak.

"That is why the Clan Lord is never the child who proves to have the Gift, even if it is the oldest child and rightful heir."

"B-But that has nothing to do with Toushiko."

"It has everything to do with her." Inuai waved off the woman who bought two bags of rice, smiling though her eyes were dead. "Toushiko-chan has gone insane, I am certain of it. Perhaps there remained enough sanity in her mind to allow her to escape before she became a danger to you or others. Or perhaps she merely ran, not knowing where she went. She is gone, whichever way you look at it."

_No, Inuai-san, it isn't that simple._ Rei stared down at the woman whom he had trusted without reservation until this moment. _If she merely lost her mind and ran, why did no one see her go? And where would she go? The guards open the gates for no one, especially not a frantic woman. _

_Why won't you tell me the truth?_

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

_The currents are changing. _

"Yes, I know. I feel them as well."

_We counted on the girl being there to tell them the Truth._

"There is always more than one way, miko. We have simply to find it."

_Without her, their chance of failure increases. There is no one else with the Sight, no one of the previous generation living who has that Gift. _

"Not living, no. Not of this generation or the previous one."

There was a pause from the other presence. Sesshoumaru let her think on that while he relaxed, letting the thin substance of his Self spread over his domain, the small section of forest surrounding the resting place of his physical body. Every bird and squirrel, every tree within that radius had his protection, and for thirteen years there had been no animal deaths due to hunting that Sesshoumaru did not allow. The animals were healthier than in any other area of the vast forest, the trees taller and greener, the water purer. He took some small pride in this; after all, there was little he had to be proud of from life. Making amends, even in a small way, in death made him feel better. If only he could have done something for Inuyasha and Kagome, or their son, his nephew. 

Well, he still owed them a debt, and if the currents shifted much more, his chance to pay that debt would come soon. 

_There are only two options then, Sesshoumaru._

The taiyoukai coalesced again so he could focus on the conversation. The other spoke through the veil between worlds, voice thin like gauze through that barrier. She could not keep the contact for long, though it was easier to speak with him than with someone living. 

"Actually, there are three." He felt her surprise and reveled in it; very few people had ever surprised this female in life or death. "There are the two you thought of, and then there is the option of combining the two."

_But—_

"I had the Sight, when living. I could help them if I could leave this place, but I cannot. The girl, Aya, has the Sight, though she does not know it and the monk cannot recognize it." Sesshoumaru paused, allowing the miko to sort this out. 

_How do YOU know she has the Sight?_

Ever prudent, ever questioning. Sesshoumaru smiled.

"I have spoken with her through the Dream Passage. In her dreams, in the things she told me, I knew. She has always Seen things, known things before they happened because she Saw them in her mind before seeing them occur in the physical. It is the reason I can connect with her."

_You know they are currently far from here._

"Yes, and in a bit of trouble if I am reading the energies correctly."

_I always knew that monk would be more trouble than he was worth. _

"He often was, for both of us." Again, Sesshoumaru couldn't help but smile. In a strange way, he missed the old days when he and Inuyasha hated each other, and the only thing either of them had to worry about was the other's sword. Well, Inuyasha had also worried about the miko. "Kikyou, do you regret the hell you put Inuyasha through?"

_No. And neither should you. We made him strong, Sesshoumaru, even if that was not our plan. If not for us, he would never have lived long enough to father his children. _

"True. But did our influence help him survive the invasion?"

_I . . . do not know. Even I cannot see where he is. I only know he does not inhabit the Ghost Roads, any of the heavens or the hells. He still lives, but where I cannot say. _

"Nor can you say in what condition?"

_ . . . _

"I thought so."

_I will watch the trial from the Ghost Roads, Sesshoumaru, and will return later to learn what you plan to do._

With that last thought, the presence of the miko Kikyou vanished from the clearing, leaving Sesshoumaru to nurture the land and think of the past.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

One of the village huts had been turned into a makeshift prison. Two large farmers stood guard outside with harvest blades in hand. The villagers wanted to immediately marry Miroku to his alleged victim, or execute him for her rape. Inuken, however, refused to let them. The monk hadn't quite figured out how the boy managed to get the villagers to trust him even with his obvious youkai heritage. 

Sango had not come to see him. Somehow that made Miroku feel better rather than worse. He would feel worse if she came, if he saw the accusation in her eyes, saw the pain. Miroku knew this last was too much; she had barely trusted him before this. Now she would never trust him again. 

He flinched as the door screen moved aside. It was not, however, Sango. Inuken stood there, looking very much like Inuyasha as his eyes flashed angrily. He spoke something to the guard, who nodded and let the screen fall to give Miroku and Inuken privacy.

"You've really done it, you know that?"

Miroku smiled as well as he could, given the circumstances.

"It was only a matter of time."

"This is serious!" Inuken moved himself directly across from Miroku and kneeled, lips curling into another very Inuyasha-like expression, a scowl. "We're not going to let you either die or suffer marriage to a woman you barely know for a crime you didn't commit. Though, apparently you knew her well enough to sleep with her."

Miroku shrugged.

"You don't have to know a woman well to bed her well."

Inuken made a groan, whether out of frustration or the sheer tastelessness of the joke, Miroku couldn't tell. 

"Listen, the only reason they're allowing a trial at all is because I've convinced them that a companion of Inuyasha the Hanyou and the miko Kagome has to be trustworthy, or at the very least deserving of a fair hearing." 

Ah. Now Miroku understood.

"And they trust you because you are their son."

"Exactly." Inuken stood. "So it's not just your neck on the line anymore. If I fail, that means I lied. Who knows what they'll do to me then. Or Aya. Or Sango."

Sango . . . Sango the Taijiya, who could hold her own in a battle with the fiercest youkai, but would not lay a hand to harm a human. Miroku swallowed, and nodded.

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about what happened sixteen years ago."

End Chapter Ten. 


	12. Chapter Eleven: Les Chats et Les Chiens

**Authors Notes:** This is a short chapter, and I'm sorry, but hey, right now I'm just glad I managed to finish it at all! It took me long enough, ne? And for just this measly little five pages. For those who can translate the chapter title, I was searching desperately for SOMETHING, and settled on the second scene as my inspiration for the title. Hopefully next chapter will be better. For the person who asked: yes, the chapter titles are in French. Oh, yeah, and many of you will probably be highly annoyed with me by the end of this chapter. Don't worry; the resolution you seek will come by next chapter's end. It will have to. 

**Thankies:** Pleiades-sama- Hopefully you weren't one of the people trying to strangle me for the end of this chapter. ;o) But I'm guessing that finding AQD 11 in your inbox was a happy surprise. Fuuzaki-chan-::blink, blink::. Satan's Mistress- I am NOT writing anymore fanfics. NOT NOT NOT! Crap…. Tensei-chan- ::huggles:: IronRaven- ::flyingtackleglomp:: 

**Disclaimers:** Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Aya and all WK related characters belong to whoever created them, which wasn't me. Damn it. Inuken, Mineko, Anja, Toushiko, Akseh, Hephzibah and all those other characters you don't recognize belong to me.

Âmes Qui Dorment Chapter Eleven – Les Chats et Les Chiens 

Souta held the old hand, tears running down his face, and wondered what the hell kept Inuken away.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Mineko didn't know how the boy managed to get room for them all to stay. She'd been certain the villagers would toss her out on her tail, if not the boy and his strangely dressed companion. Well, Aya did have her strong points. 

Mineko sat by the door. The hut given to their group was not large, but it seemed to be the largest in the village. Her powerful ears picked up snatches of conversation and the fact that the village leader had, in fact, given up his own home for the visitors. His people weren't sure about the intelligence of such a move, but so far did not question outright. At least the leader had locked up the lecherous rapist of a monk. 

Idiots. Silly, ignorant fools. They have more to fear from the boy than the monk, but none can or will see it.

She did have to admit surprise, however, to find out that Inuken and his companions claimed him to be the long lost son of the two most famous figures in recent history. This claim had bothered her since hearing the monk's explanation of Inuken's transformation. Even the Neko Youkai had to respect Inuyasha's quest to destroy Naraku, and the way he and the miko guarded the Shikon no Tama after its completion. Inuken certainly was mostly human, and what youkai blood there was in him had the stench of inu. Without any doubt that blood was powerful, as she had seen only a day before in the wild, crimson eyes of a boy who barely understood his heritage. But could that heritage really include being the son of Inuyasha?

Mineko, in the manner of her people, slipped silently over her sleeping roommates over to the futon where Inuken lay only half-asleep. Kneeling over him, Mineko poked the boy with one sharp claw. He jumped, fully awake, and only her hand over his mouth kept Inuken from screaming in pain, surprise, or alarm, or all three. When he had time to see her form through the darkness, Mineko lifted the index finger of her other hand to her lips, signaling for silence. Then she stood and waved him to follow her.

The neko youkai slinked her way back through the people and out the door, Inuken making enough noise behind her to wake any vigilant youkai. 

"How the hell—"

"Do not be ashamed," she said, interrupting his whisper, "a full youkai would not have heard me while completely awake. It is one of the advantages of being Neko." She grinned at him, unable to resist. The boy snorted and snarled back at her.

"What's the point? Did you bring me out here just to insult me because of my race?" Fury blazed behind his eyes, a fury that impressed Mineko, and he impressed her more when he merely balled his hands into fists and suppressed that anger. "Fine, you're done now, and I'll go back to bed." 

"I did not bring you here to insult you, despite myself." Mineko paused, watching him as he waited for her to continue. He was a boy, but not by many years. All too soon he would be a man, and certainly the things he had already seen and done combined with what he would inevitably see and do would hurtle him closer to manhood sooner than perhaps he was ready. "I brought you here to ask the truth of you. Are you truly the son of Inuyasha the Hanyou?"

Inuken stood straighter, jaw setting. His whole face bespoke determination.

"You heard Miroku-san's story. I am the son of Inuyasha and Kagome, and if you don't trust me, ask Miroku-san to his face. If you don't trust him, ask Sango-san. She was their companion too, she knows as well as anyone."

"The legends say the son of Inuyasha the Hanyou and his human miko wife vanished many years ago." She didn't ask the question outright, and perhaps he didn't answer for that reason. Mineko didn't think him that stupid, however, in spite of his being inu. They stood there a long moment in silence as the neko waited patiently for her rat to come out of its hole. He didn't bite, however, and when at last he spoke it was not with the words she wanted to hear.

"Listen, I'd love to tell you the whole story, but I'm tired and I've got a lot of work ahead of me tomorrow. Miroku-san may have dug us all a grave unless I can do something to prove he's not a rapist. May I go to bed now?" 

"Fine. You will tell me the story eventually."

"Yes, yes, I will. Goodnight."

Mineko watched him as he turned and became swallowed by the hut's doorway. He left her with few answers and quite a few disturbing thoughts. In defiance of everything she knew the Inu Youkai to be, Inuken seemed totally honest and straightforward. She had no reason, other than his status as inu, to doubt his words, and the more she saw of him and heard him, the more she believed he didn't lie. Moreover, she wasn't sure a lie had ever crossed his lips. Even when transformed into the beast-inu, he never spoke a lie, and in fact spoke more candidly than she and his companions rather liked. 

So she had every reason to believe he really was the son of Inuyasha. 

This I was not told. It changes everything. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Through the shadows, the place of deep darkness in which she lay engulfed, Toushiko felt the briefest of touches at her lips. Soft, gentle, she smiled, knowing Rei must be close, must be watching her, keeping her safe. She smiled sleepily, turned over, and opened her eyes. 

The golden eyes that gazed back at her were not soft and kind. They glittered and mocked her. Toushiko screamed and sat straight up, only to find herself nude on the large futon. He was nude as well.

"Y-You . . . w-what have you . . . ." 

Akseh propped himself up on one arm, head resting on his palm, mouth twisted in an ugly grin. 

"What have I done?" He dared reach out a hand, trailing rotting fingers down one of her bare arms. "I've done nothing, my lady. Yet."

Toushiko jerked away, shuddering at the way her skin burned where his fingers had been. She felt a tossing and turning in her stomach as Akseh sprawled lazily and quite unashamed over the futon, watching her. She brought her arms up to cover her breasts, and drew her legs together tightly. Staring at the cruel grin on her captor's face, Toushiko found she wasn't quite sure she believed him.

"I don't remember coming here." Her mind was blank past seeing Rei off to the market for more rice. He left, she remembered him turning to smile at her over his shoulder, then nothing else until waking. If she didn't remember coming here, then it was entirely possible he might have . . . might have . . . _No. No, I will not allow that to be. It cannot be. I forbid it. _

"I know," was his only reply. 

Toushiko shook her head against him, realizing as her silver hair fluttered around her that he'd undone the bindings that kept it up. She tried to scream again, but the only sound that came out was a strangled half-sob. The Seer stood, turned away from her grinning captor.

"Y-You have no right to bring me here against my will."

"The Lord has given me leave to take any woman I wish. I chose you."

His words struck her, and she whirled.

"You lie! The Lord would never give leave for something so callous! He respects women and the sanctity of lifebonds!" _Rei, oh Rei, where are you? Has he hurt you to keep you from me?_ The thought of her mate wounded or worse caused Toushiko's chest to tighten and rocks to fall into her stomach. 

Akseh chuckled.

"You know a Lord very different from mine," he said, plucking languidly at something on the futon, chasing some invisible piece of dirt. "Perhaps you shall meet my Lord in the future, but for now know that my Lord has no such respect. If I claim you, you are mine, and any bonds you had before me are null."

"You care nothing for me." Toushiko felt her knees weakening beneath her. "Why, then, have you chosen me for your sport?"

He laughed.

"Whatever made you think I must care for a woman to desire her? Are you really that naïve, young Seer?" Finally he moved up from his position, standing before her with such unabashed nakedness, Toushiko flushed and had to turn away. "In the end, of course, it isn't your body I desire, but your mind. Your Gift. However, your body is quite lovely, and if I should possess that as well in our time together, I shall not regret it."

"T-Then why this . . . display?"

A claw moved suddenly, gently down the length of her spine, and Toushiko gasped. Back to him, she had not heard him approach, and was not prepared. Her body shuddered without her permission, and when he grasped her bare shoulders to turn her around she could not fight him. 

"Two reasons." As he spoke, Akseh trailed a finger over her lips. "One, to show that there are to be no secrets between us." His own lips spread in that familiar grin Toushiko was beginning to hate. "After all, after the secrets of the body, what other secrets are there?"

"Those of the soul," she spat before she could stop herself. He laughed again, that finger pressing against her mouth to silence her. 

"Well, having no soul, I have none of those sort to give. You, however, will find yourself baring your soul to me, including its secrets."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Dawn came too swift, and Inuken found himself groaning, and rolled away from the sun, one arm draped over his face. His dreams had been filled with convoluted images, Aya spinning into Mineko, who in turn became a hollow-eyed woman dragging a teenage son behind her, the son bearing a close resemblance to Miroku, then became Miroku, running from a many-headed dragon that threatened to suck him up in its vortex breath. Sango rode one of the dragon-heads, laughing and crying for them to eat Miroku, chomp him, gobble him up because the time was long, long past. Hiding somewhere in all of it were a smiling miko and a golden-eyed hanyou who called to Inuken, but never revealed themselves. 

"INUKEN-SAN!!"

Inuken sat straight up, breath pushed from him by the shout, searching frantically for the source of the disturbance. Aya stood in the doorway, glaring at him with a mixture of panic and annoyance.

"Inuken-san, the villagers are getting impatient. Everyone's been up for hours; we've been waiting for you."

"Damn it," he muttered, lifting himself quickly from the pallet on which he slept. He saw the floor around him empty, as all the other pallets had been picked up much earlier. Inuken hurried to fold his up and stuff it into a corner before joining Aya at the door. "Okay, I'm ready."

Outside, sun bearing down on them, the villagers looked like something out of a more modern painting, though which one Inuken couldn't have said; he'd never been much of a fan of art. All he knew was that one of the more surreal moments of this journey came down on him in that moment, one of those moments where he realized suddenly, with a burning sort of wonder, that he was strolling nonchalantly five-hundred years in the past, seeing a way of life that had been distant and far away in his history books. None of the people looking on him with watery eyes of worry, wringing their hands, would understand things so simple to Inuken, like telephones or television, such marvels of technology being magic reserved for a time in a future they couldn't begin to conceive. Their lives consisted of farming, and the day to day struggle to keep themselves and their children safe from foreign attacks by wild creatures of youkai, attacks from disease, and attacks by the human monsters of bandits and murderers. And rapists. 

"Let's get this over with," said the father, back drooping with old age but eyes alight with a young man's fire. "I aim to see my daughter avenged somehow, and don't much care how."

"Maybe it's not your daughter that needs the avenging!" Aya's eyes burned with a fire of her own. "Maybe Miroku-san's reputation needs avenging after your cruel slander!"

Several people stared at her with blank eyes.

"Aya-san," Inuken murmured, "they don't understand what slander is, and now isn't a good time to teach them."

"But—"

"No, Aya-san, please. Just let me handle this." He watched her until she nodded, though her lips thinned in a tight line to show her reluctance to concede. "Thanks."

"Just set this right, Inuken-san."

"I will."

At that point, Miroku was led from his prison-hut, hands tied in front of him with a thin rope. Inuken knew the monk was strong enough to break away if he wished. The two smiled at each other in understanding, even as the crowd kept the younger from giving comforting words to his elder. 

"Let's get this over with," repeated the old man. "We'll hold this trial of yours out here, so everyone can hear and decide."

Inuken, who'd been expecting a private trial with the village leader and a few chosen jury-members, felt his stomach turn to ice. He couldn't, however, risk turning their anger to him, so he nodded his agreement to the arrangement. All around him village members settled themselves down comfortably for what they no doubt thought would be a short but slightly amusing form of entertainment. Miroku was left standing with Inuken in the middle of a large circle of eager and expectant faces. Aya was among them, but Inuken could find neither Mineko nor Sango. A glance towards the monk showed the slow crumbling of his serene expression as his own searching eyes found the same. 

_Sango-san . . . don't you realize how much he needed you here?_

Well, no more time for random thoughts. The trial had begun. 

End Chapter Eleven.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Mon Nom est Léger

**Thankies**: Pleiades-sama: ALL HAIL THE GREAT BETA!!! ::bows to the Great Beta:: Satan's Mistress: ::singing:: I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts! There they are standing in a row! Fuuzaki-chan: You, no teasing! Tensei-san: Okay, okay, maybe THE sledgehammer should have a bit of a break… IronRaven: ::huggles::

**Disclaimers**: ::sighs:: Oy. Inuyasha and all related characters do not belong to me, they belong to the infinitely talented Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Weiss Kruz, Aya, and all other WK chars also do not belong to be, but to whoever created them. All of the random OCs that have popped up in the course of this story, belong… well, I'm guessing they belong to themselves. Akseh certainly is no progeny of mine!

**Warnings**: On beginning this chapter, I have the feeling there are going to be scenes, starting in this chapter and continuing into future chapters, that will be of a more intensely adult nature than previously. AQD is a dark story, despite moments of humor. I won't attempt to hide it. I have given proper warning.

"My name is Light.

I may go dim, but I will never go out.

Like Eternity I call to you

in webs of dreams, soft and airy.

You seek passage through realms

that know me not."

          ~ Sailorcelestial, July 15, 2003

**Âmes** Qui Dorment****

Chapter Twelve – Mon Nom est Léger

"_I meant only to stay the night, Inuken, I promise you that. I had no other intentions in mind, not even for the daughter_."

"He came to the village, asking to stay a week or more, claiming there was a youkai infestation only he could eliminate."

"_The father of the woman, he offered me food and lodging for the night, hoping I might bless his home in return_."

          "Otou-san didn't want him to stay, but the monk hinted that Buddha would be displeased if His holy man were made to sleep outside."

"_I blessed the house, as he requested, and went straight to bed. I'd been travelling for a long time, and only wanted to sleep. The daughter was attractive, as was her sister. I'd noticed, I won't pretend I didn't, but my mind . . . was on other things_."

          "He went through the house, giving a quick blessing, then insisted we feed him our best fare. He stayed up most of the night, keeping us awake, feasting on our food and flirting with my sister. I managed to stay out of his notice."

"_I woke in the middle of the night with the girl in my room. She had closed the door behind her and partially disrobed, waking me. She claimed she wanted the full blessing of the Buddha, even if it meant sleeping with one of His holy men. I tried to tell her blessings don't come that way_."

          "I went to the room Otou-san said would be the monk's, to make certain it was presentable. While I was there, I heard the door slide closed. H-He . . . he said he would give me the full blessings of the Buddha. I-I don't think blessings come that way."

"_Inuken__, she was beautiful, and it had been a long, long time. Nor did I have an heir for the Air Rip. I told her about my curse, and asked her if she would willingly bear my child, and if she would then I would consent to the act. She said she would."_

          "I told him I didn't want blessings, then he told me a made up story about a curse, then said I must bear his child for him so he could pass the curse on to his child. I said no."

"_I did sleep with her. But she agreed; it wasn't rape_."

          "I said no. He didn't listen."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

          When the screams issued from the Lord's audience chamber, as they inevitably did, everyone within earshot turned away. The servants knew better than to care. The Lord's men knew better than to ask to participate. The Lord's lover knew better than to try and interfere. The Lord's daughter knew better than to act like she knew what was going on. She may not be able to hear the screams, but she knew, in other ways.

          Below the grunting, snarling, screaming figure of the Lord, the woman held eyes and mouth closed against the pain. So many times, over so many years, and still he managed to find ways to make it hurt. Too many times she'd returned to her cell, bruised between her legs and in other places, breasts bleeding from open wounds made by sharp, unfeeling teeth, and just wishing she could die. That she would dare die. No, no, death was not an option, had never been an option, and never would be until she could free him . . . . 

          "Break, bitch!"

          A pause as weight crushed her and a hand wrapped around her throat. The woman opened her eyes just a little, stared up into the orbs glaring down at her and immediately had to look away. _Don't look at him, don't let him hurt you that way_. She said nothing. Saying nothing could be as effective a shield as metal or words, this she'd learned quickly. He screamed again, frustrated, and resumed his task, pounding against her in steady, unmerciful rhythm. She didn't know how he managed to move in ways that ripped at her, and she didn't care. It hurt, but she didn't care. The hand at her throat squeezed, blocking off the air she would require were she going to speak. She would not speak. Not to him. Never.

          Even when his hand left her throat, both clawed appendages moving to either of her sides, claws hooking into her flesh to pull her up off the ground and closer to him, she didn't scream. She let him do all the screaming for her.

_Inuyasha__ . . . ._

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

          Hephzibah clenched his fists as he watched the guards drag the woman away. Her eyes—filled with such power, gods such power—landed on the auburn-haired one as they passed each other. What did those eyes say? Did they carry a warning to all who had dared help in her imprisonment and torture? Did they offer absolution instead, or did they carry only madness in them?

          Hephzibah surprised himself by feeling sorry for her. 

          "Hephzibah!"

          He started when the Lord, obviously knowing his lover stood just outside, called his name. Hephzibah straightened his kimono, tossed his head to give his curls just the right appearance of dishevelment, and entered the audience chamber.

          "Yes, my Lo—"

          He was cut off by a sharp backhanded slap. 

          "I have told you before to stay far from here when I am working on my prisoner."

          "Yes, my Lord." Hephzibah kept eyes downward.

          "You defied me. Again."

          "Yes, my Lord." He felt fingers curl into the mass of his hair and in the next moment the Lord jerked Hephzibah's head up, face outward, throat exposed.

          "What morbid state of curiosity is it in you that keeps you from obeying me?" A claw from the Lord's other hand drew a thin line of bleeding red across Hephzibah's throat. "Are you really all that jealous of her? You know better than to think my affections could ever be for a woman, a human woman at that."

          "My Lord, I—"

          "Shut up!" Claws already stained with the blood of another, dug into Hephzibah's face all around, creating a pinprick line of bleeding dots. "I did not ask you to speak, not even for your own sake." The Lord paused, waiting for Hephzibah's reply, but the helpless one remained silent. "Good." The claws eased their pressure. "Love, you really should listen to me when I give you an order. Doing so would make life so much easier for all of us." The hand released Hephzibah's hair, and joined the other in cradling the stolen face between them. "I do so hate to ruin that lovely face of yours. Next time please listen to me. Will you? You may nod."

          Hephzibah nodded slowly within the confines of those hands. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

          Aya watched around the other images in her head the eyes of the people as Inuken asked his questions. Many of them weren't paying attention at all, but watching the sun, or trying to calm the children, and some even seemed to be asleep. It didn't matter that a man's life might hang on their attention, or that truth waited to be uncovered in this strange tableau of modern justice in a feudal age. Even the obvious differences in the two stories had not caused a ripple of doubt, not even the first beginnings of a whisper. No one cared.

          _How can you people not care about the truth?!? How can you sit there like this is nothing, like it's only another day?_

          Of course, though, it was just another day, with a little bit of a distraction. They already knew the outcome, they knew the verdict, and merely waited for the chance to pass it so they could continue on with their everyday existence. Not a single face in the crowd gave any indication of listening for something contrary to what they already knew.

          _It's hopeless._

          Then, with sudden clarity, the words Miroku spoke to Sango came to Aya's mind, the words he spoke when trying to convince the Taijiya to accompany them.

          "_I don't want to leave them alone, which is what will happen if I die on this journey, even if not by the Air Rip."_

          A distinct, crystal clear image became manifest in her mind among all the others. Miroku, lying sprawled on the ground, bright red blood against pale skin running from his mouth. Sango leaned over the body, tears streaking her dirty face, even as the holy beads and wrappings around Miroku's right hand became undone . . . 

          "I have no more questions." Inuken's voice cut into the image, ripping it from her mind, leaving only the vague and random scenes of normality. She looked up to see the half hanyou walking towards her with a dark, nervous expression on his face. He did not look confident. When he sat down, he leaned close and whispered in her ear. "Her story's pretty tight, but she has had sixteen years to think about all the details." 

          "You don't think she's telling the truth, do you?" Aya whispered back, a little desperate even as a pang of something uglier rang through her. Irony became cruel, making her say the same thing she wanted so much to fight against in her own time. 

"No, I don't." The answer came a little too quickly, a little too confidently against the hopeless backdrop he worked against. 

          Aya opened her mouth to ask him how he could have so little confidence in Miroku when a face towards the back of the crowd caught her attention. The man was paying attention, actually watching the proceedings carefully. He hadn't been there before. 

          "Inuken-san, who's that? I haven't seen him before now."

          Inuken looked to where she pointed, and his golden eyes narrowed. 

          "I don't know. I haven't seen him either."

          _Night, outside, pressure and heat, the man's face above her.__ Whispered words of promised love and of marriage, someday, one day when his crops would yield enough for them both and the family they would have. One day_.

          "Aya-san?" Inuken's hand on one of her shoulders shook Aya from the image, and she realized her face burned hot under the memory. "Aya-san, are you all right?" He gazed at her through worried orbs.

          "H-Hai. I'm fine."

          Except she knew the truth, the truth only the woman and the man standing in the back knew as well, a truth neither of them would admit, not even for the sake of an innocent man, a holy man. 

          It is something we must make them understand, Child.

          Aya gained another glance from Inuken when she jumped. She threw him a small, reassuring smile, then turned her own eyes back to the old man who spoke, pretending to listen. In truth, she listened to the voice inside, the voice from her dreams, and she spoke back.

          _Sesshoumaru__-san, why are you—_

          Silence. I cannot speak for long; the connection is too weak while you are awake.

          _I thought you were a dream._

          You did not. You know better. But that is not important. 

          _No, Miroku-san—_

          Yes, the idiotic monk has gotten himself into trouble, that is why I am here. I will help you, because we both know the man will not admit to being the true father of the child any more than the woman will admit she has a bastard child by little more than a farmer.

          _She never expected Miroku-san to come back, did she? Now that he has, she has to stay by her story or be proven a liar as well as a . . . a . . ._

          Whore. Yes. These are peasants, and must be frightened into admitting their truths. Here is what shall happen . . .

          Aya listened as Sesshoumaru explained his plan. She argued, but in the end time won and she had to agree simply because he had not given up and the link began to fade. She hoped there would be time later to attempt to convince him differently. If not, there would be yet another village they could never return to due to fear.

          Somehow, however, she thought convincing a taiyoukai lord would be near to impossible.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

          Akseh watched as the Seer, Toushiko, sweated out her nightmares in the throws of sleep. Not true sleep, of course, but the deep coma induced by the rummaging of an alien presence in one's mind. She would dream, she would cry out, and then she would wake and he would search her mind again. The Seer had incredibly strong mental barriers for someone her age; her age had been the first thing he gleaned from her. A mere nineteen summers. Only a year older than the boy.

          Akseh's eyes narrowed as he settled back in his seat, thoughts drifting to the only pertinent information he had been able to get so far, which was not much. Not much at all, but enough to know he had not been the only one who Saw the black-haired boy with youkai's eyes. Toushiko Saw him as well, and underneath the so brief glimpse Akseh gained he sensed she knew much more than he did, even if her conscious mind would not see it. 

          _So sleep, my little lovely, and when you wake I will be waiting._

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

          The verdict came, and it was what they expected.

          Miroku was given a choice. Did he wish to right this terrible wrong and marry the woman, giving her son his proper father, or did he wish death instead? Miroku, however, had managed to lay eyes on the boy and knew, as he suspected from the very beginning, the boy was not his son. Had he been, Miroku would have known, would have seen the dark glow around the boy's right hand as the power of the curse made the heir ready to receive the Air Rip. The boy's hand was clean.

          "Well, monk?" The old man, the father, hobbled forward, old and lively eyes gleaming. "What's your choice?"

          "I did nothing wrong." Miroku stared the old man down, knowing there could be no point in asserting such a thing after the verdict. "I will not marry a woman I do not love for the sake of a child that is not mine."

          _Well, why not? mocked a voice in his mind, a voice that laughed and sounded like Naraku. _After all, you did not marry the woman you did love, taking away the chance of ever having a child that _**is_ yours_. **_

          "So, you choose to die, then."

          Miroku heard Inuken curse, and Aya gasp. He didn't know if Mineko cared, and he didn't look around for her, nor did he look for Sango. He wouldn't be able to see the Taijiya even if she were there. She wasn't far; she wouldn't abandon Inuken and Aya. Neither would she be close at hand for him. That, he thought, showed how completely she no longer cared for him. 

          "Yes. I choose to die."

          "Miroku-san!"

          He didn't turn to look at Aya. He watched the wrinkled face of the father almost smooth out in shock before splitting into a wicked old grin. The man didn't care what punishment came for Miroku, as long as one did, nor did he seem to particularly care the chosen punishment was death. 

          "What do you think, daughter?" asked the father to the woman, without once turning his bright eyes away from the monk. "Should we hang him or just slit his throat?"

          His daughter didn't answer, and none of the villagers offered an opinion. Only the old man's eyes gleamed with pleasure at the prospect of Miroku's death, a thought that made the monk very sad. What had happened to this man that he should revel so much in the death of another?

          Whatever might have been decided never crossed the first mind as a rumble began deep in the earth beneath their feet. Murmurs that had not flown during his trial now took wing between the lips of the assembled, and people looked in all directions to see if they could find the source. Miroku looked at the ground and saw the first beginnings of a crack as a sense of trembling washed up and over his legs. The quake felt like water in the way it lapped upwards, the vibration humming through his flesh. 

          "It's coming from below!" He shouted, even as the small crack burst into a large chasm, nearly swallowing the old man before Miroku lurched forward and pushed him out of the way. In another moment the man might have screamed at the insult of a convicted rapist daring to touch him, except that from the chasm in the ground rose a figure made of smoke and mist. The form puffed outwards into shapes like rounded flowers, blooming here and there as they rose into the sky, the sky that had somehow gone from daylight to night in a matter of seconds. Miroku lay where he fell next to the old man, watching the smoke rise and coalesce into a larger form, into a—

          "A dragon! It's a dragon!" Aya was the one who screamed. Miroku thought he sensed something strange in her voice, something like fear but not quite. It didn't matter, however, for she was right; the thing had turned into a large dragon.

          THIS VILLAGE HAS DARED INSULT AN INNOCENT HOLY MAN OF THE BUDDHA.

          The dragon didn't yell, not really. The voice merely carried power as it echoed through the skies, forcing people to their knees in trembling sobs, asking for forgiveness under their breaths.

          THERE WILL BE PUNISHMENT TODAY BUT NOT FOR THE MONK.

          "Forgive us!" One of the women . . . no, not just any woman, but the woman, his accuser, crawled on her knees toward the dragon image but not too close. "Forgive us for our lie, Great One! It is as the monk said, there was no rape! I lied, because my child is a bastard but not that of a holy man!" 

          The dragon peered down at the woman with blinking, calm eyes, giving no indication as to whether her words moved it, or if it even heard. It hovered gently, like the smoke that birthed it, mouth open, as though waiting to gobble them all up. 

          _Something isn't right, thought Miroku. __Something—_

          "I am the father!" A man came from the crowd, prostrating himself before the dragon as the woman did. "I seduced this woman and refused to marry her when she got with child. I am the father, not the monk! Please, Great Dragon, forgive us and spare our lives!"

          Something about the situation wanted to make Miroku laugh. He felt the laughter bubbling up from deep inside, but managed to control it; something wasn't right about the dragon, but being safe required he contain his insane amusement until after.

          FREE THE MONK.

          "We will!" This time the old man spoke, at Miroku's side. In mere moments the old fingers worked at the ropes binding Miroku, as though the monk hadn't had the power to free himself the entire time, if he'd wanted. "He's free, Great One! He may go, and his companions!"

          I WILL KNOW IF THEY ARE HARMED.

          The dragon twisted into smoke and retreated back into the chasm in the ground, almost as though trying to get away in a hurry. When it left, so did the gorge. Like it had never been there, like the earth had not been rent. The urge to laugh grew stronger.

          Hands came down on his arms, strong hands, but young ones. _Inuken_. Inuken pulled him up to his feet, murmuring in his ear, "Hurry, come on, Miroku-san, we've got to get out of here before they change their minds, hurry_!" On the other side a smaller hand, female, came down on his shoulder and Miroku looked to see Sango's dark eyes peering at him. _

          "You came."

          "A dragon coming up from the ground tends to draw one's attention." No warmth reached from her voice, only coldness. Miroku wanted to ask her why, why didn't she believe him, why even now did she think him a rapist, when a messenger from the Buddha had come to save him. He didn't have to; she read the question in his eyes and answered it in a low voice. "I know as well as you do, houshi-sama, that something was off about that dragon."

          Well, he supposed his good luck couldn't include everything. So he smiled at her sadly.

          "Yes."

          Inuken growled.

          "I don't care right now what it was, or if it was right or wrong, let's just get the hell out of here!"

End Chapter Twelve.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: La Régénération et Le ...

**Author's Notes:** I received my first ever flame for AQD after the posting of chapter 12! Yay! I quote: "I hate u how could u torture Inu Yasha and Kagome like that?" 

Because, as I told this hapless flamer, people get tortured. People get abused and people get raped. Not just in fanfiction, but in real life. It happens, and it's horrible, and I'm not going to attempt to hide it. Sure, I'll write the occasional gooeyfic, but for the most part I'm going to write about things that make people uncomfortable BECAUSE it makes them uncomfortable. When something makes you so uneasy you want to push it away and ignore it… that usually means you should do anything but. Rape needs to be paid attention to because it needs to be stopped. Abuse in any form needs to be stopped, killing in any form for any reason needs to be stopped. Prejudice and hatred need to be stopped. They will NOT be stopped if we continue to ignore them or treat them in an "oh, that's just the way things are" manner. 

Listen up, folks. This is life. But life can be so much better, and so different, if we only allow it to be.

**Thankies:** Pleiades-sama: The best beta in the world! ::sniffles:: I miss you already! Hurry back!! I had to get TWO new betas just to replace you!! Fuuzaki-chan: Be strong, hon, and be open. I love you, Little Sister. Satan's Mistress: ::looks at her warily:: If I get all mushy on you, you're not gonna, like, feed me to the minions, are you? Bah! I control them too! ::huggles:: Thankies for taking over in Pleiades-sama's absence. Tensei-chan: Dooby! ::huggles too:: IronRaven: Also thankies to you for taking over in Pleiades-sama's absence!

**Disclaimers:** You people know the drill by now. Inuyasha, not mine. Aya, not mine. Inuken, mine. I think. All them other weird people, mine, unless they're not.

Âmes Qui Dorment 

Chapter Thirteen – La Régénération et Le Changement

Rin left out her usual tribute. The form lost within dark crystal offered no thanks, and neither did the spirit appear to berate her. Rin waited in the dwindling light, watching Sesshoumaru's gold eyes stare out into nothing and wondering why he had not yet coalesced. Seconds passed, the sun sank lower, vanishing behind the protective cover of foliage, and finally Rin stood. A hesitation later, she headed back to the living hut that welcomed her. 

Even inside she sensed nothing of the usual presence that usually permeated the place, none of the air of impatience or subtle anger building. The wait for Tenseiga drove Sesshoumaru closer to losing the careful mask he'd worn in life, and the atmosphere of the hut usually reflected this.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?"

No answer. Rin heard the whimper escape from back in her throat before she knew any sound was forthcoming. It echoed in the emptiness of the small room. Rin's face crumpled. 

"Sesshoumaru-sama, you said I wasn't alone! Sesshoumaru-sama!"

The young woman sat on her bed made of earth and grass and leaves and cried because the man who never lied had finally told an untruth. Rin sobbed, quite alone. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Akseh watched the Lord unsheathe the sword. Rust flaked from the chipped, battered blade, falling in a maroon cloud to cover the Lord's legs in flecks of red. Akseh winced. So messy. Only the word of the Lord had Akseh believing this decrepit piece of steel could possibly be the Sacred Object they'd come here to claim. Thirteen years after taking the sword from its owner, a taiyoukai from the ruling Family of the fortress' Clan, the Lord finally understood its power. 

"It is a bridge," he said, lips forming a smirk as crimson eyes passed from the blade to each of his highest ranking officers. Hephzibah he did not look at, for the Lord's lover stood behind him, head down and hair only barely covering the deep purple bruise on his cheek. "The Object creates a bridge between this world and the next. Not our world, but the plane of souls, what some would call the Ghost Roads. I have not had a chance to test this theory yet, but I believe it is powerful enough to reach even beyond that, into the deeper soul realms, those of the Heavens and Hells."

Murmurs bubbled up from the gathered officers. Akseh caught snatches of what they were saying, and most seemed to be praising the Lord for being so clever as to figure out this mystery. Some, the quieter ones, questioned why it had taken the Lord so many years to decide that. No one asked that question loud enough for the Lord to hear. 

"Now that I know the Object's power, we can begin our takeover of this world. With the Sacred Object in our control there will be no one able to stand in our way." At this, the Lord's eyes landed on Akseh, and his voice sounded clearly in Akseh's mind: _You will stay after I have dismissed the others. I have plans for you._

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

No one spoke of the dragon. No one asked. They all had other problems on their minds. Miroku tried to talk to Sango, but she rebuffed him repeatedly. _It doesn't matter, Mineko could almost hear those words going through the monk's mind, __that the dragon wasn't right. What the woman and man spoke in their fear was still the truth! Sango wouldn't listen; finally, he had to leave her alone. _

Inuken kept himself apart, and Mineko assumed he took the time to think on what had happened, and his role in it, and how he could have done more, spoken better. Of course, there had been nothing; what point could there be in brooding over it? She recognized his type, though. They never thought they'd done as much as they could have.

Aya had said nothing since her scream of "It's a dragon!" The girl seemed to be waiting, though for what, Mineko couldn't have said. It was Aya Mineko finally went to, sitting down carefully, with arms folded across the metal breast-plate covering her chest. The neko youkai remained silent for a good long moment, watching Miroku give up his attempt to convince Sango once and for all of his innocence, and Inuken glowering alone in his shaded place to the side.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Aya finally asked. "You don't know Miroku-san well, but I think you know him well enough to know he wouldn't rape anyone."

Mineko smiled a little. Despite herself, despite the ignorance of humans, Mineko liked Aya. Perhaps because the girl carried none of the superstitions the rest of her kind did. Or, perhaps, Mineko merely liked the girl's audacity at wearing such revealing clothing. Wherever had she obtained such garments? 

"And who would have listened?" she finally replied. "Who in that village would have listened to a youkai, when the testimony and protection of the offspring of Inuyasha the Hanyou and the miko Kagome was not enough?"

Aya paused, then nodded. "Stupid question. Gomen."

"Do not be sorry. It is refreshing to find someone who does not think of me as a youkai and only that." Mineko paused, thinking over her statement and the many ways it could be heard. "Misunderstand me not, I am proud to be youkai. I would be none other than what I am, however, it is disheartening to be youkai and to find that in the vast world there are few who see me as anything but a monster." Aya's eyes opened wide when Mineko placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Since I joined this group of travelers you have accepted me as youkai and, dare I say, someone who could be a friend. I am grateful."

Why is it that this open child travels with an inu? For that matter, how is it she came to travel with an inu so unlike the rest of them?

Mineko didn't want to think of Inuken as different from the rest of the Inu Youkai, but seeing him and the way he treated his chosen pack made her wonder more and more. Perhaps the human blood in him drowned out the monstrous blood of the inu. 

It is disheartening to be youkai and to find that in the vast world there are few who see me as anything but a monster.

Mineko shut her mind against the echo. 

"I just never thought," Aya was saying, "to see you as anything but another companion." The girl shifted, her violet eyes falling on Inuken. "After all, Inuken-san is a quarter youkai, and you're intelligent. Why should I treat you any differently than I do him?"

Any reply she might have made died when shouting voices broke into the conversation. Mineko looked to find that while she spoke with Aya, Miroku and Inuken had also begun a dialogue. The dialogue seemed to have escalated into an argument by the way Inuken's hands darted into the air in wild patterns and both males bellowed at each other.

"What the hell are you talking about?!? We can't turn back now!"

"Inuken, those villagers need us! We promised them we'd be back within two weeks!"

"If we turn around every two weeks, we'll never get any further than we are now!"

"Stop being selfish!"

"Oh dear gods," Mineko murmured. "Men. You'd think they were children."

"They are." Aya huffed and stood, not bothering to dust off her skirt before going over to Miroku and Inuken. She put a small hand on either of their shoulders and pushed hard, shoving the two away from each other. The monk and the boy both stared at her. "BOTH of you are idiots! Neither of you have permission to make decisions for the entire group, last I checked! Sango-san, Mineko-san and I are part of this group too, so don't you think you should ask us for our opinions before you start arguing with each other?"

"Gomen ne," Inuken muttered, not looking very sorry at all. 

"But we—"

"Be quiet, Miroku-san!" Aya paused, flushing at her own outburst, then took her turn at apologizing. "Gomen nasai, but we can't afford arguing like this. We need to work together." Mineko rose and went to stand beside Aya as the girl sighed. "I suggest we camp here for today and tonight and discuss this like _adults," she sent a glare in Miroku's direction, "and we can move on after we've _all_," now a glare at Inuken, "decided what to do."_

Smiling, Mineko put a hand on Aya's shoulder. "I agree. Doing so will give everyone a chance to calm down."

"So, now _you're_ making decisions for the group?" Inuken growled. My, but losing the trial had made him an angry puppy. 

"I agree as well," came Sango's voice. She sat a few feet away, polishing the Hiraikotsu without looking up. "That makes three against two. Majority."

"I wasn't aware this was a vote." Inuken leveled narrowed golden eyes on Sango, then passed them on to Aya, then Mineko. The neko youkai merely stared back, lifting an eyebrow. The expression always annoyed her father and brother. They said it made her even more inscrutable than most neko. She had yet to find someone who could stand in the face of the lifted eyebrow, and Inuken proved no exception when he growled something under his breath and turned away.

"I'll start gathering wood." Mineko patted Aya's shoulder before making good on her offer. The neko youkai left her companions to retreat into the forest in search of wood for their cooking fire. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The mountain guardian watched his ward, felt the pulse of energy from the object growing stronger with each passing day. Since its awakening, the object grew in strength, sending out more energy, seeking its owner. Or a new owner. The guardian knew an unworthy one could not be allowed to wield its power.

Test all who come this way. You know those who are worthy. Turn back all who are unworthy, and if they will not go, you know what to do then as well.

He remembered those words, spoken so long ago, and his eyes fell on his charge again. Oh yes, he knew how to tell the difference between worthy and unworthy. He also knew how to turn away bandits and others who sought only power. 

He also knew how to kill them.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Mineko left to get wood, leaving Inuken with Aya, Sango, and Miroku. Then Aya went to Sango and murmured something not even Inuken's ears could pick up. Not long after the women made some excuse about needing to bathe and left as well. Inuken was alone with the monk, and for the first time since the preliminary monk training, the half-hanyou found himself not liking Miroku's company. Come to think of it, those training sessions had ceased once the journey really began. Too little time, Inuken supposed, but that was not important. 

The important thing was to keep moving, because they couldn't turn back, not now, not when something called to him deep from the inside and urged him on. Maybe his parents; maybe his okaa-san sent out her energy to draw him to her. Maybe his youkai heritage led him instinctively towards his otou-san. Either way, turning back would damage that connection. He knew it like he knew to duck when someone hit a ball at his face. 

But the villagers. Miroku-san is right about that. You promised right along with him, Inuken. You promised to go back and make sure they would be protected. 

"Damn it," muttered Miroku from the place where he huddled over the ground. Inuken sighed and moved towards him, peeking over the robed shoulder to see what the monk was up to. 

"Miroku-san!"

Inuken knelt hastily next to Miroku and reached out to help him. The prayer beads wrapped around Miroku's right hand had broken, and the monk had been frantically trying to tie the two string ends together with one hand. When Inuken reached for them, the monk's face snapped up, eyes burning. 

"Don't, Inuken! Just back away!"

"But, Miroku-san—"

"Would you want me near during your transformation?!?"

Inuken blanched. It was unfair for Miroku to bring up that, to make Inuken remember how dangerous he could now be, but the half-hanyou understood. Still, he moved away reluctantly, and watched Miroku's hands for any signs of trouble. Moments passed with the monk's fingers slipping clumsily around the tiny string, trying so hard to make them snake around each other and tie. Inuken fought to keep back like he was asked, and almost lost that battle until he heard Miroku's sigh of relief.

"Miroku-san?"

The monk didn't answer for a moment, still bent over his hands, the left holding the right as though holding back some great demon. Inuken saw those fingers tighten and thought Miroku might actually try to tear off his own hand. Then the monk murmured a small, quiet prayer of thanks and looked up.

"I'm fine. I have spare beads I can bless later."

"Are you really?"

"Hai." Miroku offered a tentative smile. Inuken looked away. 

"I shouldn't have fought with you. You're right about the villagers."

Miroku shrugged.

"I understand how you feel about this quest, Inuken. But I cannot and will not break another promise, not if it causes my death." The monk's eyes lifted to the sky, their dark depths shimmering. Inuken thought the shimmer might be tears. In the silence that dropped on them, the half-hanyou wondered if the broken promise had anything to do with Sango. Of course it must. What else but a broken promise could cause such hostility between two people who so obviously cared for each other? Inuken breached the quiet by finally asking what had been so much on his mind. 

"Why is Sango-san so angry with you?"

Miroku kept watching the skies and left the question unanswered for a very long time. Inuken thought of asking again, but thought the monk might be angry with him again if he did so. Instead Inuken began building a pit for the coming fire. He was wondering if Mineko would also hunt for them when Miroku finally spoke.

"It is a very long story, one I haven't told anyone, though Kagome-sama must have guessed. Inuyasha probably knew as well, but he was never one to butt into business that wasn't his." A slight smile. "Unless the business was Kagome-sama's, of course." Now a laugh. "Or unless Kagome-sama forced him to butt in."

Inuken paused in laying down the last stone around his dug hole, and went back to Miroku, sitting beside his elder friend.

"I won't tell anyone else. Not even Aya-san."

"You and Aya-san are quite close." Miroku turned a mischievous glance to Inuken. "Is there something I should know about, Inuken?"

"Don't try to change the subject!" Inuken felt a flush on his face. He actually hadn't thought much about Aya. Or Mineko. His stint as a sex-crazed, blood-driven hanyou kept his thoughts in line. Mostly. Occasionally he caught himself staring at a female body part he probably shouldn't be staring at, but not often. Or, as Miroku would probably say, not often enough. "I asked about Sango-san. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but at least say whether you are or not!"

Miroku actually laughed, though the sound dripped with unhappiness.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell you."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

While your okaa-san, otou-san, Sango, Shippou and I were still on the quest for the Shikon no Kakera, when Naraku still roamed the Earth, I once asked Sango to settle with me and bear my children. Unlike the other women, I meant it. Sango, to me, was more than a child-bearer. The other women would have been tools, you see, and not only that, but disposable tools. My great-grandmother did not have to give birth to my grandfather as an heir to the Air Rip, but my grandmother did die in giving birth to my father. My mother died bringing me into the world. It is the way of the Air Rip.

_Sango . . . Inuken, Sango was . . . is . . . so much more than that. I could not ask her to be my tool, but I could ask her to be my wife. But wife only after Naraku's defeat. I could never cause her death that way. _

_Fate is so ironic. The very curse Naraku inflicted on a wayward monk fifty years before my time became his downfall. In the end we could only wound him but not kill him. We never did discover why. Every slash of the Tetsusaiga, every spiritually charged arrow, every chant and every swing of Hiraikotsu brought destruction to Naraku-s body but not the finality we all sought. Until I decided. Until I thought, 'What good would the world be for Sango if Naraku remains? What good for young Shippou, or for Inuyasha and Kagome, who want so much to be able to admit what everyone sees?' _

_And so I sucked him into the Air Rip._

_He was weak. Otherwise it never would have been possible. Our multiple attacks, come at a time when he was already wounded, weakened him enough to allow that greatest irony. What is worse is that I have always assumed, as did my father and grandfather before me, that anything living sucked into the Air Rip automatically died. _

_Apparently this is not true, for if it were, my hand would be free now. I would be free. And what happened would never have happened. _

_I don't remember much about the days that followed. Too shocked that Naraku was gone, yet the Air Rip remained, I remember being in Kaede-sama's hut. I stayed there for a very long time, thinking, remembering, cursing Naraku and Inuyasha and Sango but mostly myself. _

_Kagome-sama finally brought me out. She said Sango missed me. She reminded me I had a promise to fulfill. After all, Naraku was gone. The Shikon no Tama sat complete in the village shrine. Everything, the quest, the journey, the battle . . . was over. It left me with a hole in my hand and a promise I could never satisfy. _

_I planned everything so carefully. Finding a willing woman. Making sure poor Kagome-sama, just another tool, would tell Sango I wanted to see her and when and where. Timing the entire scene just perfectly, so she could hear us before seeing us, and know before ever laying eyes on the woman and me what was happening. Cruel, I know, but I had to do it. I had to make her hate me. Otherwise she would . . . no, she wouldn't beg. Sango isn't the begging sort. But she would have remained, quietly, jealously but without complaint. Much like Kagome-sama. Only without hope. _

_Which would have been crueler, in the end?_

End Chapter Thirteen.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Vrai Comencement

****

Author's Notes: Ignore any formatting faux pas ff.net might make with this chapter, please. ::sighs and hangs head:: If something seems like it would be a thought, and better if put in italics… well, it probably is, and was, and ff.net fucked it up. Bah!

For **chocodips**: I sowies! My brain kinda froze on AQD for a while, and in that time I found new obsessions, and I deal with new obsessions by writing fanfiction! ::sniffles:: But I'm back! It's short, but I had something of a breakthrough while on this chapter, so maybe the next chapter will be longer and come out sooner! Here's hoping!

****

Thankies: You know who you are. Pleiades-sama. SM. Tensei-chan. Fuuzaki-chan. IronRaven. Person with good manga. DRAGON DAGGER-SAMA! YOU SO ROCK! ::huggles Dragon Dagger-sama until she turns blue… again::

****

Disclaimers: Blah, blah, blah. Inuyasha and all related characters do not belong to me. Crap in a hat. Aya and all Weiss Kruz related characters do not belong to me. Plft. Inuken, Hephzibah, Anja, Akseh, and all those other people I can't remember at the moment belong to me. I think. Sometimes I'm not so sure.

****

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapter Fourteen – Vrai Commencement 

Akseh shouted orders to his men and pulled on the reigns of his horse, trying to get the animal under control. It disliked being so close to the Lord's creations, but most specifically, it disliked his most feared weapon, and Akseh really couldn't blame the poor creature. If he did not know what the weapon truly was, he would find it unnerving himself. As it was, he preferred leading raids on his own, but the Lord had insisted he take the weapon with him. 

__

I want to see if this boy you speak of can withstand my weapon.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

You will give in to me. You will know me. You will love me.

Those words chanted over and over within the dark walls of Toushiko's mind. Akseh's voice, telling her what to think, telling her what he planned to do with her. Only the thought of Rei, the images of his smiling face, kept her from giving in to the monotonous repetition of Akseh's will. 

The one who wore another's form had not come for her yet today. He left her in his chambers, without food, without clothing, and without explanation. She could only sit and wait for him and wonder what pain might come next time. There was a window in the room, a small one, but she did not dare move close enough to look out for fear of exposing her naked form to the people outside. She sat on the bed, her legs pulled up to cover her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, as though such a position might protect her from his intentions. His intentions had nothing to do with her body, however, and nothing she could do would protect her mind much longer.

__

Rei, where are you? You will give in to me. Oh please, don't be dead. You will know me. Rei, I need you to be alive! You will love me.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Around them, the night pressed in, held back only by the campfire and the group's persistent, cheerful talk. Sango noticed Aya appeared uncomfortable. The red-haired girl kept glancing out into the shadows, violet eyes harboring behind them some unnamed fear. Sango still didn't like the girl, but it had not escaped the Taijiya that Aya often predicted danger by moods such as this one. So Sango kept Hiraikotsu close by, and watched the darkness.

She also wondered what had happened between Miroku and Inuken while she and the other two were gone. The two males seemed to have ended their argument, but more than that, they now sat next to each other and, when not huddled in whispered conversation, laughed and joked so loudly Sango knew it to be false cheer. Did their private whisperings have anything to do with the thing Miroku had been talking about when Sango returned earlier? She had only heard the last part, Miroku asking Inuken which would have been crueler. Which what? What choices had the monk once had?

Sango watched him from the corner of her eyes as he alternately laughed and whispered with the half hanyou. Even at forty-two, Miroku remained handsome, the grey in his hair only giving him an air of dignified wisdom. Age supposedly made one wiser. Perhaps so, maybe the monk had gained wisdom over his isolated years. Still, the mistakes of his foolish past haunted not only Miroku, but those with him as well. The types of mistakes the monk had been prone to in his youth did not just die, nor were they the types to have gentle consequences, as the previous village had proven. 

__

It might be a good idea to just stay out of villages from now on.

Sango felt another body closing in on her and snapped out of her reverie, hand twitching towards Hiraikotsu. When Mineko smirked at the gesture, Sango rolled her eyes and sighed.

"You could give some warning, or at least make some noise."

"To make noise would disgrace the rest of my Clan." The youkai grinned. "We are all soundless as the stars." The grin she wore, however, suggested there would be no disgrace, and that sneaking up on people without the ears to hear merely amused her. 

"Right." She returned her gaze to the edge of their camp and the alternating lines of darkness and firelight. "What do you want?"

Mineko sat down, crossing arms and legs. Her tail wrapped around her legs, the tip of it curling upward and down, tapping the ground as though keeping a rhythm only the neko could count. 

"We have not spoken much, youkai Taijiya. There are many reasons why, however, if we are to continue to travel together we must be somewhat civil to each other."

Sango hesitated to think. Yes, it seemed the neko youkai would be traveling with them for a good bit of the coming journey, for reasons she had not chosen to share. 

"What do you wish to talk about?" Sango couldn't entirely keep her hand from resting near Hiraikotsu, despite Mineko's constant presence in the past few days and the help she'd been in getting Inuken's transformed self under control.

"We could just have a conversation, share gossip, as women do," the neko said with a smirk. Sango couldn't help returning the expression. They were two women in warrior's armor, sitting around a fire with men who would rather fight them or fight beside them than anything else, and another girl who was nice enough if a little strange. Certainly not typical village women with time to sit around and gossip about who would be married soon and who would not.

"If nothing else, youkai, I like your sense of humor."

Mineko had no time to form a response.

"MOVE!" Aya screamed suddenly. Sango jerked to attention, her hand immediately grasping Hiraikotsu. Mineko was actually on her feet, and across the way the two men were staring wide-eyed at their youngest companion. Aya's shout echoed in the otherwise silence of the forest.

"Aya-san," Miroku said, standing, "are you--"

"We all have to run, NOW!" The girl turned to Inuken and began pushing him out away from the fire, into the darkness of the surrounding forest. "They're after YOU, Inuken-san! You have to RUN!"

The other four gave each other confused glances across the top of Aya's head. Sango could read the indecision in Miroku's eyes, and Inuken looked as though he would do what Aya asked if only to calm her. She looked to Mineko, who had turned her gaze out to their surroundings. Sango remembered when Mineko first came to them, after Aya had warned that something wasn't right. Then came the wolves.

"All right," Sango said, lifting Hiraikotsu, "we'll leave."

"HURRY!"

Sango forced herself to move faster even though her own senses told her nothing was amiss. Inuken went to gather their supplies, Mineko to put out the fire, and Miroku tried to talk to Aya, but the girl paid no mind, trying to make Inuken move faster, or even forget the supplies.

"Aya-san, we won't get far without supplies," the boy replied in a soothing voice. Sango thought he sounded as though he were being calm for Aya's sake. She turned, sword now strapped to her, Hiraikotsu in hand, just in time to see Mineko hit the ground. Inuken followed not long after, Aya with him. 

"Get down!"

Without thinking, Sango listened to the authoritative tone of Mineko's voice, finding herself on her stomach just as the arrow whizzed over her and struck a tree behind her. She heard the volley continue, arrows swishing over her head, and felt the air stir with each shaft that missed and kept going. As the group crawled over the ground towards each other to plan, voices came through the darkness to Sango's ears. Laughter, shouts of glee, and sharply barked orders. 

"Don't shoot for the boy! The Lord will be displeased if he is harmed by any of your measly arrows! Leave him to me!"

__

The Lord?

The low, coiling sound of hissing drove all questions from her mind. As Sango neared the place where Miroku crouched, she saw from the corner of her vision a small, thin figure slink out from the darkness. She had not seen as many of these as Miroku and the villagers, but she knew what it was. It took all of her youkai exterminating abilities and tools to rid her own village of them on the rare occasions they invaded. Now all she had were Hiraikotsu and sword.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

__

Don't shoot for the boy! The Lord will be displeased if he is harmed by any of your measly arrows! Leave him to me!

The boy. Him. Inuken. 

Around them scuttled the skinny, hissing things that kept Miroku's nomadic village on the run, and somewhere in the darkness rode men who controlled them, including one man who wanted to be the personal cause of Inuken's death. As he hugged Aya close, eyes trained to the figures moving in the shadows, and made his way toward Sango, Inuken wondered who the hell would want him dead, and so badly.

"Inuken," said Sango as they came within earshot of each other, "you should run with Aya-chan. If they want you, there has to be some reason, and Aya-chan can't protect herself."

"The Taijiya is correct," offered Mineko, crouching on all fours as though she belonged there more than on two feet. "It matters not why they want you, only that they do. We cannot let them have you." She ducked lower as an arrow flew past, thunking into a tree at the height where her head had been. Inuken found himself wishing he were in his transformed state. Claws and larger fangs would have been an enormous help. 

"Follow the light of the fire!" The voice came from around them, but closer. Inuken knew he had no choice. Sango and Mineko were right; Aya couldn't fight, and he certainly didn't want to be captured or killed. Especially if their enemy wanted it so much. 

"We can't leave them without protection!" Miroku hissed as one of the creatures came at him and he felled it with an ofuda. "Or a guide!"

"I will go with them." Mineko's clawed hand curled around Inuken's arm. "I know the lands as well as either of you, perhaps better. And I have a sword."

Inuken thought Sango looked as though she wanted to argue, but she didn't. In the end, she just nodded and gripped Hiraikotsu. No time. There was no time for anything else if Mineko meant to get them away before the men who controlled the creatures trampled their campground. Mineko tugged at his arm. Inuken followed, dragging Aya along. The girl struggled, but not well or with any conviction. 

The murk between trees settled over them as a thick blanket between them and their followers, hiding their running forms for view. Even dragging the two children behind her, Mineko moved silently. Inuken couldn't make his own feet rise and fall so quietly, and Aya seemed not to care. The only words that passed through the night came from behind them, not from their own lips. Voices rose in battle cries from the clearing the three left behind. They ran fast, Mineko having to hold back for them, but Inuken could run nearly as fast when he tried, when he had to, and he plucked Aya from the ground to carry her. The human girl may not have heard Miroku's cry of "Kazaana!" but the gasp she gave revealed that she heard Sango's cry of agony. Inuken stumbled.

"Sango-san!" Aya began to struggle in earnest. 

"Quiet!" Mineko's voice did not rise above a whispered hiss, but Aya heard, and silenced herself. Inuken felt the girl go nearly limp in his arms. Though his legs felt like water, he kept running. The last echoes of Sango's cry died away, but he kept running. His chest hurt with the force of his breathing, made worse by the dry sobs hammering his lungs, but he kept running. 

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Akseh watched the monk try to go to the woman, only to fall under the club of a soldier. At his side, the Lord's weapon snarled and strained against its bonds, enflamed by the smell of blood and the violence that danced in the air all around. The general yanked at the chains around the weapon's neck, hauling it back, though it snapped and spit at him. His horse reared, shrieking in fear. Akseh brought the animal back under control just in time to see one of his soldiers prepared to skewer the woman where she lay. 

"Stop, you fool!"

"But, General Akseh--"

"Our orders were to kill no one! We were to capture all we could. Do you understand the meaning of the word 'capture'? Generally, when one is captured, one is still alive!"

Chastened by his words, the soldier still hesitated before moving away from the woman. Akseh understood, he wanted to kill as well, but the desire to kill would not be a valid excuse when the Lord asked why his orders were ignored. 

"Tie the monk and the woman," he shouted, "and load them on the horses." He watched carefully as his men complied, then Akseh turned his horse around, disappointed yet relieved at the same time he had not had a chance to release the weapon. 

At his side, the thing snapped at his horse's leg.

End Chapter Fourteen.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: La Vraie Face

**Author's Notes:** HOLY GODS! I know, I know, it's been forever. I'm sorry. I've been having lots of inspiration and writing issues. Anyways, I FINALLY finished this, and I think I really do have a better idea of how exactly to get from point A to point Z now. YAY! And to check out the strange and unusual fanfic I'm co-writing with Satan's Mistress, you'll have to email me, because is apparently jealous and won't allow links.

**Thankies: **Those who deserve Thankies know who they are.

**Disclaimers** Argh . . . check out past disclaimers this time, wouldya? They remain the same, after all.

Âmes Qui Dorment

Chapter Fifteen - La Vraie Face

Breath came only with effort, wheezed through a closed throat, coughed out between sobs. Legs ached, chest heaved and hurt, arms spasmed and all cried out for rest, for relief. It was not to come, could not come, for the only thing on the mind controlling them was to run, keep running, and escape the horror behind.

Somewhere in the back of that mind, buried deep, Inuken understood he was panicking, perhaps even experiencing a mild state of shock like the one a friend of his had on learning of his grandfather's death. That buried part of him knew he should stop and calm himself, but the rest of him took no heed. _Run, run, run!_ Even Aya, in his arms, had stopped struggling with him a long time ago, and the small rational portion of his brain registered her fingers curled tight on his shoulders. Inuken lost track of time as they ran.

Ahead ran Mineko, youkai speed keeping her in front of them, compassion or something like it keeping her from leaving them altogether. Inuken focused on her tail to keep him going, to keep something in his sight so he wouldn't lose all rational thought. He couldn't lose rational thought, because not only would he be useless then, he would feel like he did when he transformed.

He nearly ran into Mineko as she stopped, crouching down in the brush. With her blocking his way, Inuken fell to his knees, still clutching Aya. She trembled, and he strained to breathe. Mineko was poised, eyes alert, sniffing the air. Not even her tail twitched, and Inuken would have sworn under other circumstances that he almost saw her ears swiveling to catch other sounds.

Finally, she spoke.

"They are gone."

"G-Gone?" Aya looked up from her place cradled in Inuken's arms, eyes wide and shimmering. "Miroku-san and Sango-san too?"

"Yes."

That word hovered in the air between them, horrible and without mercy. Aya dissolved into quiet sobs. Mineko, apparently unable to face those tears, turned away until Inuken reach out and grabbed her wrist. She hissed low, what he hoped was an automatic reaction to his action and not still an example of her opinion of him.

"What are we going to do?" he asked her. Golden eyes, slitted and narrowed, stared back at him, searching. He scowled. "Are you going to leave us here, by ourselves? Are you?"

"No." The youkai frowned deeply, her eyes darting around them. "I have come to respect all of you, but especially the houshi and the taijiya, despite her line of work. Neither of them would like me to abandon you, so I will not. Your first question is more pertinent. What are we going to do?"

The three of them exchanged glances, but no answers. None of them knew what to do next.

* * *

Miroku woke in pain. It speared from the back of his head to the front, reminding him of how he'd come to be unconscious. He opened his eyes, grateful at first there was no light, because he had a suspicion that light would be quite painful at the moment. As though he wasn't in immense pain anyway. The monk groaned again when he tried to sit up. 

"I wouldn't," came Sango's voice from somewhere in the darkness, "at least not for a little while."

"Agreed." Miroku settled himself again on his back, turning his head only for a moment in order to feel for the knot he knew would be there. A spectacular one too, by the feel of it. He winced, sighed, and went quiet for a moment. Then, "Where are we?"

"Other than in the dark, I don't know. It's dark, it's smelly, and no one's been by to offer either food or information."

That was all she said. Having the feeling he should not attempt small talk with Sango, Miroku asked the next question that was safe, for he needed to know. "Inuken and Aya-san?"

"As far as I can tell, they escaped with Mineko-san."

Miroku sighed again, this time with relief, and let the conversation drop. Instead, staring into the dark spaces of the cell they were confined in, he let his mind wander, trying to answer this puzzle.

Who captured them, and why? Naraku was long gone, and since then there was no warlord or enemy capable of stirring old feelings of wanderlust in Miroku, or capable of making Sango want to travel with him. They had come together now not for some mission of revenge, or quest for the pieces of a sacred jewel. No, what brought them together was the quest of a young man to find his parents, a young man who was the son of their dear friends. They sought only final knowledge of what happened to Inuyasha and Kagome all those years ago, so who or what found that quest offensive?

After an indeterminate amount of time in which he found neither answers nor relief from pain, Miroku decided sitting could be no more or less painful than lying down and finally managed to maneuver himself against a wall. He still couldn't see his hand in front of his face, but at least he felt somewhat more qualified to handle whatever might come through the door. Where ever the door might be.

Silence ruled the room until Miroku thought he might go insane from knowing Sango was right there, perhaps within reach, and yet so far from his touch. Could she truly be this angry with him after so long, so angry as to leave him bereft of even the sound of her voice in what might possibly be their last moments of life?

"Sango-san, I--"

The door opened.

As expected, the light from outside sent another spear of pain through Miroku's abused head and he lifted an arm to cover his eyes. Through the burn and the blur, though, he could see a tall figure in the doorway, and the figure of Sango to his own left standing.

"Who are you and why have we been taken?" The taijiya's voice rang strong and true as she made her demand. Miroku smiled just a little to himself.

"I am Hephzibah," answered the figure in the doorway, and something about the voice put together with the outline of the shadow didn't make sense, but the monk's addled brains couldn't place it just yet. "I was sent to bring you to an audience with the Lord of the Inu Youkai."

Shock zinged through Miroku. The Lord of the Inu Youkai? The monk began to push himself to his feet, ignoring the pain in his head and the steadily fading burn in his eyes from the light.

"What lord? There is no Inu Youkai lord after the death of Sesshoumaru."

His eyes were accustomed enough to the light to make out vague features of Hephzibah's face, to see the smile that spread there.

"Oh, there is, and you are to meet with him now. I suggest, if you want to live and to sate your curiosity, that you come with me now."

There really was no question. Both Sango and Miroku followed their mysterious guide. Now out in the light of the hallway with torches lit and flickering over their forms, Miroku could see Hephzibah dressed in a good kimono, a woman's from the style and pattern. There was something wrong with that, however, even if Hephzibah looked feminine. Miroku sensed the wrongness as surely as he saw the aura of darkness about that outwardly pleasing form. He glanced at Sango, to see her face tight with anxiety and a frown. She knew it as well, even if she couldn't see what he did or feel what he did.

Hephzibah lead them through many winding corridors, so many and so labyrinthine, Miroku began to wonder if there could really be so many in a fortress such as this one. He had not lied to Inuken all those weeks ago; he once spent time in this fortress, and at that time there had not been nearly so many hallways. Magic worked here, something darker than that of a houshi or miko.

They neared at last the end of a certain corridor, more finely decorated than the rest. Two ornate doors stood at the end, leading no doubt to this Lord's audience chamber. Standing outside those doors was a girl of about twelve, obviously on Inu Youkai heritage with her fine bone structure and silver hair. Her eyes, however, were light blue, making Miroku suspect a reason Hephzibah frowned on seeing her.

"Anja, what are you doing here?" When the girl didn't answer, Hephzibah leaned down and gripped her chin, though the monk noticed the grip was carefully gentle. Speaking again, their guide spoke slowly, careful to pronounce concisely. "What are you doing here?"

"Otou-san told me to wait," she answered in a curious accented voice, an accent Miroku couldn't place but was certain now he knew the reason for. "I am to look at their colors."

Hephzibah gave a frustrated sound but moved aside. As the girl approached them and Miroku saw her more closely, he thought something about her familiar. He frowned down at her as she looked up at him, her blue eyes studying not his face or his form, but the air just outside his form. Then, surprisingly, she smiled just a little.

"Pretty," she murmured. "Violet, like mine."

Yes, she did have a light violet aura. A young miko, this girl had great power indeed if she could see the auras of others and know what it meant. Great power, and someone training her. A youkai miko, however, was such a strange thing, oxymoronic if one thought about it. Inuken inherited his ability from his mother, his mostly human body allowing him to have both that power and the gifts from his youkai heritage, though not so great. Was this girl hanyou, then?

"She doesn't have a special color," the girl, Anja, announced of Sango. "Just a normal one. Lots of red and orange, warrior colors. Anger. She's very angry." She turned back to Hephzibah then, who had placed hands on hips impatiently.

"That's lovely, now are we allowed to enter?"

"Yes." Anja moved forward, opening the doors herself and going in before turning to beckon them forward. With a sour expression, Hephzibah motioned that Sango and Miroku should follow the girl. The monk spared a glance at Sango, but she's didn't look back at him, only walked forward, showing no fear. Miroku tried not to show his own as he followed.

Inside, the walls of the room were decorated with many intricate scrolls and paintings of a style and subject Miroku found unfamiliar. Under other circumstances he would be sorely tempted to study them in closer detail, but something told him this was not the time. The polished wood floors were bare, of course, save for the mats placed in significant areas. The girl led them to sit on the floor in front of the lord's shaded seat. Light from flickering lanterns did nothing to penetrate the shadows beneath the awning covering the lord's face, but the vague silhouette sent spasms of doubt and fear down Miroku's spine. Still, he lowered himself to his knees and leaned down, bowing before the so-called Lord of the Inu Youkai. Beside him, through the corner of his eye, Miroku saw Sango kneel, but she did not bow.

"My Lord," the monk began, "I have been told you rule the Inu Youkai stronghold. I had not been aware of any ruling member of the Family since the death of Sesshoumaru." He glanced up in time to see the shadowed lord make a gesture, and Hephzibah sauntered up to stand next to that figure.

"My Lord wishes to impart to you that it is not your place to make assumptions, nor does he wish to hear the name 'Sesshoumaru' spoken in his presence again."

"I see." He could barely choke out the two words. This was not right. His suspicions curled in his stomach like sour acid, but Miroku pushed them away. He straightened from his bow but kept his head slightly downward, watching Hephzibah instead of the lord. "I am sorry to have offended, however ignorantly."

"Ignorance is no excuse," replied Hephzibah, lifting her-- his?-- head high and giving a curled smirk. "Still, my Lord is forgiving, so he will not punish you this time."

"May I be so bold as to ask why we were separated from our party and brought here against our will?"

Hephzibah's mouth opened to speak, but a sharp gesture from the shadowed lord stopped him. The kimonoed man frowned, but leaned down to listen. The whispered words, just barely outside Miroku's power to hear, nonetheless had a hissing, grating, nightmarish quality. During this conference, the monk stole a glance beside him. Sango knelt with back ramrod straight, eyes slightly narrowed, face implacable. As always, she gave nothing away.

Hephzibah gave a sound of disbelief, and Miroku turned back just in time to see a clawed hand emerge from the shadows to strike the offending servant across the face. Lips pressed together tightly, Hephzibah murmured a hurried apology, gave a bow, and backed away.

Miroku couldn't see it, but he was convinced a cruel smile laced the face of their unseen captor.

Said captor gave another silent gesture, and this time the lanterns in the room were given more fuel, the light leaping to life and brightening the walls and corners. Still, the face of the lord remained obscured, but he shifted, moving to rise.

"It was not my intention for you to be brought here," came a voice from those shadows, a voice that scraped down Miroku's spine with its familiar tones and settled in his stomach. Beside him, Sango gasped. "I meant for none of you to be taken, in fact. It is a testament to the utter incompetence of my servants that you are here at all."

That voice. Miroku sat frozen, unable to move. That voice, but with such smooth, educated words. It couldn't be, yet the lord moved then, rising from his seat. He walked forward, the veil of shadow lifting from his features to show what Miroku both doubted and feared.

Inu Youkai eyes, golden and glittering, and the silvery-white hair of the species as well, framing the familiar face, the face a meld of youkai ethereal delicacy and human solidarity. Once a dear face, a trusted face, now looking on them with contempt and arrogance. Still, Miroku would have believed it a coincidence of resemblance if not for the irrefutable evidence.

The ears.

They didn't twitch or swivel, but remained alert and directed forward. There could be no other hanyou like this, with both the ears of his inu heritage and the exact same face from Miroku's memories. The monk still found himself rooted to the floor, staring, unable to move or speak for shock.

Sango, however, bolted to her feet.

"Inuyasha, what the HELL are you doing!"

* * *

Camped that night near a village so there would be somewhere to hide should the raiders come again, Inuken and his two companions sat in silence. He and Aya had argued with Mineko about putting innocent people in danger, but the youkai would hear none of their arguments. She was of the firm opinion that until humans would accept youkai as allies, then they were useful as nothing but shields and perhaps the occasional bedmate. Present company excluded, of course, for Aya's sake. 

Still, Inuken found himself uncomfortable with the idea, but Mineko was not the compassionate leader like Miroku, nor was she likely to listen to either of their opinions. He could tell she liked Aya well enough, but they were both just children. What could they know about strategy or keeping themselves and her safe?

So, they made camp and now sat around the fire, enjoying their thoughts in silence, as well as the meal Aya had managed to put together from the little remnants of their supplies. Inuken spared a glance at Aya; the girl sat with her food in her hands, hands in her lap, and her face directed firmly down. Swallowing, Inuken looked away.

Where were Miroku and Sango? Were they even still alive? What in the world was going on here? Had they trespassed on some lord's land without knowing it? Had they done some crime without their own knowledge? Surely, if the last were the case, they would have been given the chance to know what they were accused of and defend themselves against the charges.

So that left the idea that there was something more, something about one of them in particular the raiders had been after.

"Don't shoot for the boy! The Lord will be displeased if he is harmed by any of your measly arrows! Leave him to me!"

Inuken felt his body trying to fold in on itself. The boy. They meant him, they had to, for Miroku was obviously no boy but a grown man, and even with her short hair Mineko could never be mistaken for anything but a woman. So, then why had Miroku and Sango been taken, and not him? Well, that much was obvious enough. Inuken closed his eyes, remembering their hurried flight. Those soldiers couldn't find him, so they took the next best thing.

"We have to find them." He said it before he knew he would, but on saying it, knew it was the right thing. "We can't let Miroku-san and Sango-san stay in those people's hands. Who knows what's being done to them."

He saw from the corner of his eyes Aya's head come up, and knew without looking her expression would be one of relief. Aya felt the same, she had to; the problem would be convincing Mineko, the stern neko who would see no point in going after their captured friends at the risk of their own lives. Inuken said nothing else immediately, though, watching the woman's face as her expression melted seamlessly from vague surprise to thoughtful uncertainty, then back to her usual bland mask of a face.

"I have effectively been entrusted with your lives," she finally said, feeding another piece of wood to their fire. "It would be foolish of me to risk them in a venture doomed to fail from the beginning."

"How can we know it's a doomed venture?" Inuken leaned forward as he asked his question, needing to make his point. "We haven't tried yet!"

"We do not know the identities of their captors, we do not know what direction they went, nor do we have any weapons against a force that is well armed. We are on foot, they are mounted." Mineko rattled off the list in a dispassionate tone, never looking up from the fire. "We are a party of one youkai, one quarter-youkai, and one strangely dressed human female. If we were to backtrack to the campsite, I might find a trail to follow. We would still be hours and eventually days behind them as they continually travel at the speed of horses and we only at the speed of Aya's feet." The neko lifted her golden eyes only then to Aya in order to keep her from protesting, then lowered those eyes again and continued. "I may or may not be able to keep the scent of the original trail long enough to find a fresher one. Our supplies are not meant to last terribly long, and without the houshi and the taijiya we are unlikely to find many willingly helpful hands among the human villages." She paused, but only long enough to let the words sink in. "I might be able to find help among the allies of the neko, but those allies are enemies of the inu, and few of them see humans as anything save food. If I were to go to those Clans and ask supplies, I would have to go alone and would come under suspicion if I asked for more supplies than necessary for myself. If, despite all these obstacles, we then somehow found those we were looking for, what possible weapons do we have against mounted troops? My sword? Inuken's speed and houriki? Perhaps, with cunning, we could use those against the soldiers and win. But you both saw or sensed the thing they had with them. No, Inuken, this would be a suicide mission."

Inuken had long looked away during the lengthiest speech Mineko had ever given. He knew she spoke the truth, and he could make no argument against her logic. No rational one, anyway.

"We have to, Mineko. We just have to, we CAN'T leave them. Don't you feel anything for them, aren't they your friends at all?"

"If not for them and Inuken-san," Aya joined in, supporting him as Inuken knew she would, "you might have been caught and killed by those wolves! Or turned out by any number of villages where they spoke for you! Mineko-san, how can you even think about leaving them?"

The neko did not answer immediately, instead standing to look down on them, golden eyes glittering in the dancing orange light of the fire. Inuken clearly saw her hands clench into fists, causing the muscles of her arms to ripple. When she spoke, her voice went hard.

"Tell me this, you who would throw your life away for your friends: how can a dead boy find his parents?"

The words struck with the force of a horse and trampled him just as mercilessly. _How can a dead boy find his parents?_ How, indeed. In that moment, Inuken knew Mineko was right, and no matter the size of the hole it left in his gut to admit it, Inuken knew they had to go on without Miroku and Sango. Swallowing, he turned his head to Aya, and didn't even have to speak. The moment their eyes met, she gave a pained sound and looked away, putting her face in her hands. Mineko's voice rang in Inuken's head.

"Then we move on tomorrow."

End Chapter Fifteen.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Deux de Vue, Deux de C

**Author's Notes:** I seem to have recovered something of my inspiration when it comes to this story. Yay! It was part finding a way to shuffle around how I THOUGHT things would go around how the characters TOLD me things would go. Then they laughed at me, yes they did. The other part of it is that I just have to force myself to write sometimes, to get over my little insecurities and just do it. All hail Nike.

**Thankies:** Once again, people know who they are. I do have to give props to Marika Webster for helping me out with the semi-smut. She writes the best smut.

**Warnings:** SEX SCENE AHOY! Well, not if you're reading on fanfiction dot net. I had to edit the last scene for those pansies. But the scene is posted in it's entirety on my website.

**Disclaimers:** Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. Aya belongs, loosely (well, my version of her), to whoever created Weiß Kruz. Inuken, Toushiko, Anja, Mineko, Hephzibah and all other characters whose names you don't recognize belong to me.

Â mes Qui Dorment

Chapter Sixteen - Deux de Vue, Deux de Coeur

Toushiko woke when her wrists screamed in pain. She woke with her head filled with words inside and now words outside in the same voice. Inside the voice was soft, cajoling, seductive. Outside, the voice shouted at her, angry and desperate. Though she knew listening and obeying to the inside voice would lead to unspeakable things, she found herself much more willing to listen to that voice than the other.

"Wake, bitch!" Akseh must be truly riled, Toushiko thought, to use such language. Wearing the body he used and with magic and illusion spinning it a cloak of its former grandeur, he thought himself a noble and usually carried himself accordingly and avoided coarse speech. "Wake, I tell you, before the mental torture I've provided you becomes a happy daydream!"

That, as nothing else, pulled Toushiko to the surface of her mind. With a whimper, she admitted to him how weak she was to his torture, despite her continued resistance. The Seer did not think she could withstand it if he added physical torture to his list. Breaking inside, Toushiko saw the horrid, half-mad grin cross his face and knew he understood.

"Good. I see my efforts have not been entirely wasted." By her wrists he hauled her from the bedroom to the main room and the round table resting there. Toushiko held back her sobs and tried to forget she was naked in this room with a thing that seemed to have lost what mind it had. He flung her against the table, where she just barely managed to catch her hands on the edge and keep from falling. In the center of the table lay a crystal sphere of near perfect proportions. Toushiko felt it tugging at her Gift, clawing for it, wanting to make it stronger, clearer. Akseh's hand entered her vision, gripping the crystal globe, then she felt the other one on her shoulder. "Show me the boy, now! Show me before I do to you what I did to your precious Rei!"

Pain broke through her as she thought of Rei, of the description so lovingly given of his last agonizing hours of life. The pain broke through her and broke her, and Toushiko let go, letting the crystal and Akseh pry open her mind. They had little work to do, for her mind practically blossomed open for them as she let go of the last of her resistance.

And there, the boy, The Black Inu incarnate as he fell down upon the Inu Youkai fortress with no care for age or power or gender. A boy with Inu Youkai eyes and midnight hair. The lightening flashed in the sky, and in that flash the boy's features changed, his hair bleached mostly to white, his eyes bled from gold to red. His fangs elongated, his claws became terrible, and his expression one of near-mindless bloodlust.

He tore without mercy through the ranks of the Others, as behind him came his allies who fought behind him, supporting him.

"I need more!" Spoke Akseh in her mind, and Toushiko obeyed, no longer able to fight.

Behind the Black Inu, the youkai. A neko woman of skill and speed, with a spot of darkness covering her heart. She had not spoken all to the boy, and the knowledge of her deceit, her treachery, weighed heavily on her.

To the other side of the boy and behind, the girl. Hair like flame and eyes like purple stone, she fought clumsily but with a protection Toushiko, even with her vision, could not make out. The girl's heart fair shone with beauty inside to match that outside, and the Seer sobbed to See it.

The girl turned at the sound.

Toushiko gasped.

The girl Saw her.

Shock thrust both Toushiko and Akseh from the vision, and the Seer found herself on the ground, trembling, as her captor paced behind her, his footsteps quick and measured. Toushiko dared not speak, only lay there in fear. The boy, the Black Inu, had a Seer with him!

A Seer in danger, now Akseh knew about her.

* * *

Just as her eyes met the golden ones of the other woman, Aya gasped and woke. Sitting up, the girl looked over at her companions. Neither Inuken nor Mineko stirred at Aya's waking. For a moment she wondered if she should wake them, but in the end it had been only a dream, something silly to wake them for, so Aya kept her silence and let them sleep. 

Instead, she looked up into the sky. The moon could barely be seen through the imperfect ceiling of tree branches. Two nights past its fullness, the moon peered back at her as though warning her of what was to come, though she knew. The group of three traveled weeks without the company of Miroku and Sango. Tomorrow night Inuken would transform for the second time in his life. What she did not know was how she and Mineko would keep him under control without Miroku should his transformation leave him as blindly vicious as the first time.

Perhaps this was the reason Mineko stayed. Aya looked down again to the neko youkai, asleep against a tree. Aya and Inuken spoke often over the past weeks about Mineko and why the youkai would stay with them when she did not have to, and had no real debt to Miroku or Sango to force her. Inuken and Aya liked her well enough, and Aya remembered telling Mineko she saw the neko as just another person, not a youkai. Still, it had to be said that under conditions such as these, most youkai would abandon the humans and go about their way. So perhaps Mineko remained to keep an eye on the transformed Inuken until he became able to control himself in that state.

Aya sighed, lying back down. The dream still lingered in her mind, but she needed to sleep. Perhaps this time she would dream not of battles or strange women, but of the mysterious presence of Sesshoumaru, Inuken's oji-san. He had not come to her in quite some time, and Aya found she missed his presence. Sesshoumaru always managed to calm her tumultuous dreams and clarify them for her weary mind. To her, he stood like a pillar in the center of chaos, and she missed him.

Thinking of Sesshoumaru, Aya slowly sank back to sleep.

* * *

"It can't be him." 

Miroku said the words again, as he said them a thousand times before and would say them a thousand more times then a thousand more. He didn't care for the evidence of his eyes. He refused to believe what they told him, refused to think Inuyasha could have become the thing that revealed itself to them.

"Give me even one good piece of evidence against it, and I'll gladly believe you." Sango's reply came in a wearied tone. It was scripted, her reply, the same one she gave every time Miroku denied what they both saw. In return, he asked the same question he always asked of her.

"How's your arm?"

In the silence, in the darkness, he heard her shift, probably getting to a more comfortable position to avoid pain from the arm in question. After her outburst, the Lord, Inuyasha, had reached out with a cool expression and grabbed Sango by that arm, swiftly snapping it in two. To her credit, Sango had given only a short, strangled cry and no other sound of pain. Miroku thought if she had, this twisted form of Inuyasha just might have killed her. As it was, he merely smirked and let go of her, letting the taijiya sink to her knees, cradling her broken arm and holding back tears.

"Still broken" Sango replied in the present.

"It won't set properly if we don't get out of here."

"Baka," she shot back, fury and just a tinge of despair in her voice. "It's been days at least, more like weeks, I think. It's already set improperly! It will have to be rebroken, assuming we do get out of here and find someone skilled enough to do it."

Weeks? Miroku frowned, lowering his head. Could it really have been so long? Time telling was not easy when one inhabited only a cold cell without windows to see the passage of hours, days and nights. The two of them had not yet been called back to the throne room to meet with Inuyasha. The Lord, Miroku reminded himself. He should not think of this creature as Inuyasha, his friend. Even if it had been Inuyasha, the Lord was an entirely different creature now, one Miroku could not find within himself to believe worthy of saving. If it was even possible to turn this ting back into Inuyasha at all.

The two of them drifted into silence again. They spoke rarely, making it even more difficult to count the passage of hours. Miroku wondered how it could be that neither of them yet felt the press of insanity on their minds. Perhaps he did. Perhaps all of this existed now only in his mind. Perhaps the Lord had really killed Sango and Miroku now existed in a fantasy of his own creation. Such a bleak fantasy, if fantasy it turned out to be.

The door opened, but neither captive made a move for it. Both of them knew, from many attempts and the pains that came after them, that escape could not be achieved, not from this prison. So they sat silent, expecting the colorless, tasteless food given to them each day. Instead, there stood a smaller figure, who spoke in a thick voice.

"The Lord wishes to see you. He invites the houshi and the taijiya to sit with him and eat." A chill worked its way down Miroku's spine at the thought of eating anything in the company of the Lord. He wondered if raw meat would be on the menu. "You have no choice," the girl continued, apparently knowing from their silence what was on their minds. "It isn't really an invitation. It's an order."

So Miroku rose, as did Sango. They could do nothing else but obey and walk into whatever destiny brought them.

* * *

Rin watched the sun fade below the horizon and sighed. She watched through the window of her little living hut, feeling the presence of Sesshoumaru behind her as she looked out on the corner of her clearing where she had laid Jaken to rest. As expected, she was slightly lonelier without the toad around, but the time without Sesshoumaru's constant spirit taught her what company he could be despite his ethereal state. She was glad to know he had been gone merely because he exhausted himself beyond the capability to coalesce a solid form for a few days. 

"You have to go again, don't you?" She asked him, not daring to look at his diaphanous form. She didn't have to look to know his face was blank, or to know the answer to her question before he provided.

"She is calling for me. I cannot abandon her now, not after helping her this far."

"Or Inuken-san," Rin replied pointedly. "That's who you're really helping, right? Your nephew." Her chest ached for him to say with certainty Inuken was the only one he was concerned with in the group. Sesshoumaru paused before forming his response, however.

"Yes, of course Inuken as well."

As well. Not the response Rin had been hoping for. She refrained from making another comment, though, for several reasons. One, she had always known she could never have Sesshoumaru. He felt for her, she knew he did, but his feelings were that of a father to a daughter. The other major reason was that no matter if Sesshoumaru thought more of this other human girl, he was still a spirit, and the girl still living. It could never be, and the cruel side of Rin found pleasure in that knowledge.

"Then go visit her, if you must. Just please don't exert yourself, Sesshoumaru-sama! Don't leave me alone here again! Promise me, Sesshoumaru-sama!"

"I promise I will not leave you alone again without first giving you warning." With that, the pale form expanded slightly and shimmered out of existence. Rin knew in reality he was still there, had merely given up form in order to concentrate on the Dream Passage. Still, she felt alone, despite that and his promise.

"Good luck, Sesshoumaru-sama."

* * *

"I hate this." 

Inuken paced, watching the sun set. The sky was starting to turn orange, and already Inuken felt the roiling in his stomach that would soon turn to pain. All day he'd been jumpy, knowing tonight was the night. As sunset neared, Inuken's nerves grated on him, and he could tell his nervousness got to Aya and Mineko. Neither of them replied to him, however, and he thought they must know how much he hated it without his reminder.

"I can't stand waiting," he babbled nonetheless, running his hands through his hair. "Why does this have to happen to me?"

"Do you really wish me to state the obvious?" Mineko finally spoke up, her tone sharp, annoyed. "You know the story of your heritage, your ojii-san's blood and your otou-san's transformations. You know why. It is part of you."

"That doesn't mean I like it! When most people talk about connecting with their heritage, that doesn't mean turning into a monster!" Inuken stopped to turn away and grip his stomach as a greater pain ripped through him. "No . . . I don't--"

"Inuken-san--"

"Aya-san, no!" He couldn't stay with them, not during the transformation and not right after. Inuken feared hurting them, doing something entirely regrettable. "Stay away! Both of you stay away!" Inuken forced his legs to work, to carry him away from them and further into the forest holding their campsite. Aya's voice reached for him but he tumbled through branches and foliage away from them.

Sunlight receded behind him, darkness chasing him as he tried to flee it and what it brought. Inuken fought to remain in control of himself long enough to get well away from the camp, from Mineko and Aya. Eventually he couldn't run anymore, the darkness caught up with him and so did the pain, driving him to the forest floor with agony spreading out from his stomach through his veins. Fire in his blood, his blood was fire. Torture, every part of him tortured by what was only another part of him burning the old away and creating something new.

On his knees in the dirt, Inuken watched his fingernails grow and curve just slightly, becoming the wicked claws capable of tearing through bark and flesh and bone. His tongue sought out the fangs in his mouth, finding them longer and sharper. Smells assaulted his nose, sounds his ears, and his vision bled red yet became sharper.

A howl ripped from him with the last of the pain, both leaving him trembling with the aftermath.

Hunger. He felt hunger. All around, scent of prey. Rabbits. Squirrels. Living food. A growl rose, as did his blood, and Inuken rose to his feet, sniffing the air. Yes, prey, need to eat. Hunger, gnawing, ravenous.

Then another scent. Another scent calling to a different hunger, even more ravenous than the one in his belly. Not prey. Female.

"So," came the voice behind him, "do you want to fight now?"

* * *

Mineko watched the pale imitation of the boy-- no, young man-- she had come to know and even respect. He whirled when she spoke, and she saw the way his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. His fingers flexed as well, and Mineko felt her lips curl in a smirk. He would not win in a fight, not even boosted with taiyoukai blood. 

"Well? Let us fight, if that is what you want."

"Fight." Inuken's voice rumbled low as he stepped closer to her. Mineko watched him, not yet taking a defensive position. She didn't really want to fight him, but would if he couldn't be made to see reason. Her hope was he would be able to fight the urge without her having to knock him out.

As he came closer, though, his steps closing the distance between them, Mineko sensed a subtle change in him, in the intensity of his crimson gaze and the smell of him. He no longer exuded hunger for food, but reeked of another desire, one Mineko was entirely unprepared for. She stepped away from him, her mind twisting frantically, trying to figure out exactly what happened.

"Inuken--"

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in situation, Mineko found herself pushed roughly against a tree, her back scraped by bark. Automatically, instinctively her back arched away from the pain and she cried out. The sound only seemed to incite Inuken more, and his hands closed over her wrists, his face came closer, his lips brushed her throat as he inhaled. She heard the intake of breath and couldn't help her own gasp.

"Female."

Despite her dislike for inu, despite knowing her Clan would find this a special kind of treason, Mineko felt a shiver flow down the length of her spine at the growl in his voice, the heat of his breath. Her mind twisted again, and in the space of seconds Inuken ceased being a boy in her mind and became a figure of intense and demanding sexuality. Part of her still grated against the notion, but that part drowned in the flood of sensation when his teeth nipped experimentally at her throat. Mineko cried out again, this time not in pain but swelling pleasure.

NO!

Bolstered by the sudden voice of reason, Mineko wrenched her hands from his grip and pushed Inuken away. Panting, gulping for breath, she watched him carefully as she tried in vain to regain some semblance of dignity. Inuken growled at her, but the grin spreading on his face revealed he was not angry, but rather enjoyed her rough treatment of him. That thought made her swallow and step back another step. The transformed half-hanyou chuckled, rough and dark, and advanced on her again.

This time Mineko was ready when he lunged. She ducked, slipping to the side as Inuken moved past her in a blur. His speed still was no match for hers, and Mineko turned as he stopped, catching his arms to hold him. "Stop this, Inuken! You are not thinking, you would not do this if you had your right mind!"

Instantly she knew he would not listen. Though she ground her feet into the grass and dirt of the forest floor, though she tried to sink her weight and make herself as solid as possible, she felt Inuken shift his own weight, tug, and in another moment Mineko found herself on her back on the ground. Before the neko could even catch her breath, Inuken was on her, straddling her stomach. She struggled, managed to turn him over and switch their positions.

That didn't help at all.

Much later, exhausted, Mineko lay next to him, gathering her wits. As her lust subsided, reason returned, the neko closed her eyes to absorb the weight of what transpired. With a gasp she sat up, looking down at the limp form next to her. Typical of males, Inuken had succumbed to his fatigue and slept soundly, his only reaction to the outside world the languid twitch of his ears. His flesh still shone in the faint moonlight with a sheen of sweat. Mineko let her eyes flow down the length of him. He lay on his stomach, and her gaze drifted over the slight curve of his buttocks.

What have I done?

She should have left him then, but a nagging point in her normally calm, logical voice kept her there. There were so many reasons she should stay, not the least of those reasons being her mission, and the new layer of trust this turn of events would bring to Inuken. Besides, her logic continued, what better way to control the raging beast of Inuken's transformation?

Mineko warred with herself until Inuken woke, reaching for her, grumbling something in a growl about female, mate. Dimly, the neko felt something she had never felt before. Panic. That dim part of her understood even as she began the dance and fight of mating again that this could be so very dangerous.

Then the dim part went out. Before sunrise, she and Inuken fought each other and joined twice more.

By dawn, Mineko no longer cared about consequences.

End Chapter Sixteen


	18. Chapter 17: La Destinée dans une Caverne

**Author's Notes:** **Important Announcement!** I'm focusing on fanfiction at least until I can finish this fic and _Mended Wing_. So hopefully no more dreadfully long waits! Be assured, my friends, that I know where I'm going with this story. I know exactly how it will end, I've always known. And since I've put it aside and have come back to it with an older, fresher perspective, I have a better idea of how to get there than I did the last time I updated. I hope to finish AQD some time this year.

Also, this has not been betaed. I lost the last one. D:

**Thankies:** To Fuu-chan, who has been here longer than anyone else. To Jess. To icanhaspancake on LJ. :D Chris-Brad, who is just generally awesome. And to everyone who is reading this chapter, despite the insanely long wait. Your dedication and loyalty is profoundly appreciated.

**Request:** Anyone want to beta for me? I need someone who not only has the skills to beta and the willingness to tell me when I've screwed up, but also knows the story and can keep me on track. Preferably, this person will also know the _Broken Wing _ and _Mended Wing_ stories and can beta for MW, too.

**Disclaimers:** Inuyasha and all related characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko. If the name isn't from the original Inuyasha manga or anime, then you can bet it's an OC, and therefore belongs to me. The title of the fic and all chapter titles are in terrible French. Plug them into the free translator at freetranslation dot com to find out generally what they mean.

**Âmes Qui Dorment**

Chapter Seventeen - La Destinée dans une Caverne

All around, dark auras of _wrongness _pressed down on Miroku. He sat at the small table beside Sango, he ate the food given him by the Lord's servants, but would not look at Inuyasha. Wrong, all wrong, no matter how those ears flicked in such a familiar way, or how well Miroku knew the timbre of that voice, the houshi couldn't reconcile this Inuyasha with the one he'd known.

The lord Inuyasha attempted little in the way of conversation, less as he realized neither Miroku nor Sango would answer his questions. So as the meal progressed, he'd fallen into a smug silence and merely watched them with a smirk on his face. With that expression, Miroku thought, he almost looked like their old friend. He seemed mostly to enjoy the way Sango's pride took a beating every time someone had to help her with her food.

At length, when they had all set down their bowls for the final time, the lord Inuyasha motioned for the table to be cleared and the servants to leave them. When they were alone, he spoke for the first time in a long while.

"I have questions, and this time you will answer, or you will suffer." Golden eyes flickered to the shadows behind his throne, then back to them with amusement. "I want to know about the boy."

_Your son_, the thought fluttered about Miroku's mind, but he forced it to stay there. If whatever had happened to Inuyasha kept him from remembering Inuken, Miroku wanted it to stay that way. Inuken was in enough danger without coming under the direct scrutiny of this twisted version of his father. "What boy?"

"The boy with the golden eyes and black hair," Inuyasha replied, voice low with a mocking sort of patience. "The one with whom you traveled before my men mistakenly took you prisoner."

Sango replied with a phrase of such scathing language even Miroku couldn't breathe for a moment. After her broken arm, he couldn't believe she'd dare risk more injury. But then, he shouldn't have been so surprised. Sango had always been proud.

A wave of Inuyasha's clawed hand and Sango gasped, keeling over on her side. Miroku reached for her, despite an errant thought that she'd slap him for it, and helped her sit up again. In his arms he felt her shake, her body racked with gasps as she tried to deal with the pain Inuyasha had caused her. In Sango's face, Miroku saw shame alongside fear. When she turned to look him in the eyes, he saw gratitude. He thought it was probably grudging, but it was there, and at the moment he would hold on to whatever she would give him. In this place and time, they were all each other had.

"I trust there will be no more problems."

Miroku hesitated. What if Inuken was the key to turning back the demon or spirit that had possessed Inuyasha? What if that was the reason Inuken came back here from Kagome's time? What if—

"Miroku."

One word, just his name, that was all Sango said. Her fingers tightened on his sleeve. His name, just his name, with no suffix. She could have been insulting him, but he didn't think so; she was pleading with him.

Pain sliced through him at the same moment he saw Inuyasha move from the corner of his eye, and the pain was so intense all Miroku could do was clutch Sango tighter. She could feel it too, he knew because she had clenched her jaw to keep from screaming or letting even the smallest sound of pain escape. When Miroku could breathe without agony again, he nodded slightly, and felt Sango relax.

"I am growing impatient."

Miroku turned his head to Inuyasha at the same moment Sango did, and neither of them said anything. The hanyou's eyes narrowed.

"I see this is going to be difficult. No matter."

For a long time after that, all Miroku knew was pain.

* * *

In the morning, Aya did not ask Mineko about what had happened or why she and Inuken had been gone all night. As Aya did not ask, Mineko did not offer. Inuken looked rather pleased with himself, though. Aya really didn't want to know the details, anyway. It was strange to realize that the thought didn't bring up feelings of jealousy, when once it might have. _I've become a different person since coming here, I guess. So has Inuken-san._

They packed their camp silently, and proceeded in the same silence. Inuken in his current state had no interest in conversation, and Aya and Mineko had nothing to talk about together.

In truth, as she walked next to the youkai and as Inuken moved ahead of them, Aya considered her position here. She'd begun to wonder why she stayed at all, since she seemed to have no purpose. Inuken and Mineko would be better off without her, really, able to move more freely. Aya knew that even in his normal state Inuken was capable of traveling much faster than her slow human self. The stakes were higher with Miroku and Sango captured and being held somewhere, and while Aya worried about them it just made sense that she would only be in the way in any attempt to rescue them. She'd rather her companions succeed without her than fail because of her. She couldn't even fight.

The sun was at its highest point when the two redheads crested a hill to find Inuken crouched in the center of the path, ears straight and rigid, sniffing the air.

"Inuken-san?" Aya stayed away from him, her fingers gripped tight on the straps of her bag. He didn't respond to her, merely sniffed the air again, and swiveled his ears to a new direction. "Inuken-san, what is it?"

"I don't know," he growled, and before either Aya or Mineko could say anything, he was off in the worst direction possible: straight to the village at the bottom of the hill, after they'd decided to stay away from villages. Aya gave Mineko a look, but the youkai woman only sighed and moved after Inuken. The message was clear. What else could they do but follow him and hope he didn't get them all in trouble?

When the women arrived, they found Inuken with an old man practically cornered as the half-hanyou sniffed him all over. There were people around, observing, but not one of them seemed afraid or disturbed. Looking around, Aya actually saw some smiles on some faces, even those of mothers with children at their ankles. None of them seemed worried at all that this stranger with the blood red eyes would harm any of them. Even odder, Inuken's examination of the man did not reflect bloodlust or danger of any kind, only interest.

To her shock, the old man laughed. "Never thought to be so interesting to anyone."

Inuken backed away a little, crouched at the man's feet, looking up at him. "You smell familiar."

"Guess I do," was the old man's reply, calm and canny. Eyes buried in wrinkles turned to Mineko. "If your pretty companion will help me up, I'll show you what you came for." Mineko growled, but stuck her hand out to help the old man up. "Arigatou. Now. Come with me, all of you."

"You know something," Aya said as the realization nearly knocked her over. "You know something, you know who he is!"

The old man shrugged and turned to the forest. "I might."

Inuken growled something inaudible, but didn't move to attack the man. Grateful that he seemed to calm after his initial transformation, Aya hoped Inuken could keep his patience until this man decided to stop playing his game and give them actual information. As it was, if not for Inuken and Mineko's presence, she'd never have followed a stranger deep in the woods. Even with them, the situation made her nervous. Why wouldn't the man just talk?

No one said anything else as they followed until trees crowded in on every side, until Aya felt a presence in their shadows looking down on her and her companions. A low growl from Inuken said he felt it too, and even Mineko looked vaguely disturbed.

"Where are you taking us?" the youkai woman snapped, claws extended.

The man didn't answer, and just as Aya thought one of her companions would tear into him with either words or claws, he stopped without warning and she almost ran right into his back. Eyes gleaming, the old man turned to them and gestured before him, where what looked like the side of a small mountain rose from the ground. In it, the mouth of a cave.

"This is what brought you here, Inuken, son of Inuyasha."

Inuken's eyes narrowed. Aya held her breath.

"You _do_ know who I am."

"Oh yes, I know, and so does the one inside this cave, but you'll still have to prove yourself to claim your prize."

"What the hell are you—"

The old man waved his hand to dismiss Inuken's question. "Your questions don't matter. Your destiny is inside, and you won't make any more progress in your quest until you step inside."

Aya watched, fascinated, as Inuken bristled and Mineko laid a hand on his arm in a manner she wouldn't have only this time the previous day. More intriguing yet, he calmed at her touch. Not much, but enough. "Never mind the old man's riddles, the best thing to do is go inside and see what this is all about."

"Fine." Inuken moved forward, not looking very happy about any of this, thought Aya couldn't be sure of his thoughts while his eyes bled red.

She stepped back, as did Mineko and the old man, and Aya noticed again the presence in the forest. Part of that feeling was the lack of birdsong in the trees, reminding Aya of the woods she and Inuken first explored on arriving to this time.

Inuken approached the cave entrance, hesitating. In this state, he rarely showed fear or insecurity, but he did now, at the moment he could potentially find some of the answers he'd been searching for since learning the truth about the other world his mother banished him from. He looked back over his shoulder at them. Mineko nodded, stoic. Aya found herself smiling. "Go, Inuken-san. Go, before you regret not going."

That seemed to decide him. Inuken clenched his fists and stepped into the mouth of the cave.

Only to be thrown backward by a crackling shield.

"Inuken-san!" Aya moved to him, but Mineko arrived first, not kneeling but extending a hand to help him up even as he cursed the old man and the cave.

For his part, the man turned a frown to Inuken. "Oh, dear."

* * *

As the barrier surged, so too did the guardian, falling back just before he would reveal himself. To listen. To learn.

_Don't be rash and foolish. Listen. Learn all you can about any situation before you take action. _

* * *

Before running smack into the shield, Inuken thought the whole thing a big fucking waste of time. Stupid old geezer, with his riddles and leading them on a wild chase. Inuken could think of about fifty different ways he'd like to show the guy _not_ to mess with the son of Inuyasha, but the rational part of him buried held enough of him to keep his claws at his sides.

Besides, the energy of the shield was _familiar_.

Sure, the old guy smelled familiar too, but only because he smelled like someone else. Old smell, very old, but still there. One of the smells from the well house back in the future, a smell he was certain now had to belong to one of his parents. His okaa-san, he thought, because it was forest and wood smoke and herbs, mostly because of the herbs, something he thought a miko would smell like and his otou-san probably wouldn't.

The shield felt like that smell. He _knew_ that feeling. It was the feeling of being held tight, of being protected from danger.

"Okaa-san?" The word slipped out before he knew it, but it was right. Mineko slid him a glance sideways.

"This is the work of your okaa-san?"

"I think so." But why did it keep him out? If his okaa-san made this shield, it should have let him _in_. Inuken turned to the old man who seemed to know so much about everything, and the half-hanyou had to work very hard to keep his anger from rising. "You thought I'd be able to get through. Why? And who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Well, you certainly are you're otou-san's son," he answered, hands clasped over his large belly. His wrinkle-lined eyes studied Inuken. "A little too much his son, I suspect, and that may be the problem."

Mineko stepped forward before Inuken could say anything, and it looked as though before Aya could do the same. "Enough. Tell us what you know."

A shrug. "I used to make swords, and repair them. I knew your otou-san well, and through him, your okaa-san." When none of them said a word, he puffed indignantly. "You don't know the name of Totosai? You don't know how I forged the twin fang swords of Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga? How I reforged Tetsusaiga after your otou-san so carelessly broke it?" With each word Totosai puffed further. Inuken thought back as well as he could to the stories his obaa-san told him, and he remembered the swords, but nothing about the swordsmith except that Tetsusaiga had been reforged with one of his otou-san's fangs. If Obaa-san ever knew the name of the swordsmith, she'd never shared it. Apparently, Totosai saw this in his expression. "Ungrateful!"

"Hey, not like I can be grateful if I never knew, and I don't like your tone." Keeping control became harder every second, even with Mineko's hand still on his arm and Aya standing nearby.

It was Aya who asked the next question. "What are you doing here?"

Totosai grumbled something else under his breath before answering her. "I'm one of the guardians Kagome-sama set on this cave and its contents to make sure no one but her son could get inside."

"She left me in the—in her world and sealed the entrance! She never meant for me to come back!"

"Maybe, but Kagome-sama was also a wise woman, and she knew there are no absolutes in life. She knew there was a possibility you would come back." Totosai gave Inuken another look over. "I don't think she anticipated this. I was under the impression you were more… human."

"Normally he is," Aya offered, a little too quickly, a little too eager. "This is temporary." At least she knew better than to share the whole truth.

"I can talk for myself." Inuken glared at Aya, and she flushed a little and backed off. He didn't know what her problem was, and he knew it should matter to him more than it did, but he had bigger things to worry about at the moment. Totosai still had his hands cross over his belly when Inuken looked back at him. "So you're saying I can't get in because I'm too youkai."

"That would make sense, if Kagome-sama expected a child slightly more human, with more of her gifts than Inuyasha's."

Inuken crossed his arms and frowned, thinking. Fuck, why did it have to be so hard corralling his thoughts until they made sense? Why couldn't he have a magic sword that would keep his blood under control? Then maybe he could think straight for more than two seconds.

Aya moved to say something else, but Inuken cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand. He could _do this_. He didn't need any help from her or Mineko or anyone.

It did make sense that his transformation would keep him out of the cave if his okaa-san had set her wards specifically for him. She wouldn't have known then that her son would begin transforming once a month. The boy she had in her mind would be mostly human, mostly of her genes, not his otou-san's. Yes, if she set the barrier to allow him through, she set it for him normal self.

"We wait," he finally said aloud, and turned away from Totosai. Even though all he really wanted to do at the moment was rip the guy to shreds.

Mineko, he was glad to see, only nodded and moved with him. "Do you want to camp here, or try the village? They seem to like you." When he turned to look at her, she wore a smirk on her mouth that clearly communicated her amusement.

"Camp here," he growled immediately. He wanted no more of the attention he'd gotten in the village. Especially because he could sense all the kids wanted to climb all over him and tug on his ears. If one person grabbed his ears… well, he couldn't be held responsible for the consequences.

* * *

Akseh stood at his window, watching his two creations wing toward the east and his enemies. With their powers of flight they should be there in a matter of hours.

It had taken him a long while to put them together and make certain they obeyed his commands as they should, but the time was worth it. He know knew they would do as he asked and _only_ as he asked.

They would not kill the boy, who was the Lord's prey.

They would kill the female youkai if they could, as she was unimportant.

Most important, they would bring the Seer to _him_, for all Seers were his under the Lord's law, and she was powerful. He could not be certain how powerful until he had her here where he could assess her strength next to Toushiko's, for the Inu fortuneteller had the strongest Gift he'd ever encountered, even amongst his own people. If this girl had power ever near Toushiko's, he needed her. He would have a harem of powerful Seers to boost his Sight and then….

Then what?

Akseh looked behind him, to the bed where Toushiko writhed under the agony of constant visions. He smiled. He'd never dared think it before, but this human girl gave him a reason.

Then….

Then he would take his true place. Then the Lord would bow to him.

* * *

Inuken took a nap later that day, and as he tended to do while in his current state, did so high in one of the trees near their campsite. Aya waited until she was certain he actually slept, and even then she asked Mineko to sit with her a little ways from their camp. Just to make sure he couldn't hear them with his amped-up ears.

"I'm thinking about going home," she said when Mineko had settled beside her. "Inuken-san doesn't need me, and I'm pretty useless anyway."

She glanced at the youkai woman, who looked on her with a slightly raised eyebrow. Aya felt her face flush.

"Why would you think Inuken does not need you?"

Aya didn't miss the familiarity with which Mineko referred to Inuken. Having intimate knowledge of someone's body surely gave one the right to refer to them familiarly, and Aya didn't begrudge Mineko the right. No, that jealousy really was gone. Still, it was strange to think of Inuken, the same age as Aya, being the lover of a youkai woman of indeterminate age.

"It's obvious he doesn't. I can't fight, I don't have any strength or power like you to help him. I'm just here, and in the way. It would be better if I went home."

For a long time, Mineko didn't say anything, just gazed in the direction of Inuken's tree. Around them, the sky had gone yellow edging into orange as the sun set. Soon it would be time for Inuken to make a second attempt at the cave, and after that? None of them were sure of what to do after that, where to go. They had no destination.

"I can teach you to fight."

Mineko's bald statement roused Aya from her thoughts. "Teach me to fight?" she echoed, feeling stupid as she did.

"Yes. Unless the real reason you wish to go home is that you simply do not wish to be here any longer." The youkai's inflection never changed, nor did her expression, yet Aya still had the impression Mineko issued a challenge with her words. "Is it that you are bored of Inuken's quest?"

For the first time, Aya felt anger toward this arrogant woman who had never officially joined their quest, only tagged along then taken them as a responsibility when their true guardians were lost. She felt the anger blossom in her chest like a rose dripping with red.

"Is it that you want me gone and think you can speak for Inuken-san now you've claimed him?" she shot back, shocked even as the words spilled out. Yet, it was a good question, wasn't it? "I'm not a rival, but I am his friend, and I don't want to be in his way."

Showing no reaction to either question or statement, Mineko rose. "Then do not. Come."

The next half hour was the most surreal of Aya's life. The past weeks—months, by now, how could she have been away from home so long?—paled in strangeness when compared to the time Mineko spent drilling the basic fighting stances into her head. She used a tree branch stripped of leaves and excess bark as a practice sword. Much of the movement Mineko taught reminded Aya of _kendo_, but five hundred years apparently did much to a practice. When she mentioned it, Mineko gave her a withering glare and told her the Neko style of sword fighting was nothing like human _kenjutsu._

Aya thought they were probably quite similar, actually, but thought it best not to say it out loud.

Just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, Mineko jerked a hand for Aya to stop, and looked up to the darkened sky. Tremors flickered through her muscles, making Aya think of a cat perked at attention.

"Aya-san?" Inuken's voice came through the trees, less confident than the past day. "Mineko-san?" From the edge of her vision, Aya saw him drop from his tree branch with far less grace than he'd used to get in it; she didn't move because Mineko still held her hand up as a warning. "Mine—"

"Quiet!" the neko youkai snapped, still looking up.

Inuken moved toward them, trying to look to the sky at the same time, to see what Mineko seemed to see. A few steps away, he whispered, "What is it?"

"Wings. I hear wings, but they sound as though they belong to something large."

Aya would have asked how large, except Inuken suddenly pointed behind Mineko, having seen them. Aya turned, but saw nothing in the two second before Inuken grabbed her by the hand and dragged her away. "What? What is it? Inuken-san, what is it?"

"It's not good," was all he said, his lack of answer filling her with enough fear to tip toward terror. His pace quickened to a run Aya could barely keep up with, and through her stumbling attempts to follow she saw where he lead.

"What are you doing? I can't go in there, only you can get in!" Assuming their speculation was right and he'd be able to get in the cave now, when he was more human than youkai.

Inuken kept running, though, and on his other side Aya caught a glimpse of red to show Mineko was there beside them. "I'm hoping I can get you through."

That was all he had time for before they hit the mouth of the cave and the barrier flared. Aya screamed, and felt the energy crackle and burn on her flesh for just a moment before the place where Inuken's hand held her wrist cooled, and spread that soothing chill to the rest of her. Before she really understood what had happened, they were inside.

"Go on," Mineko said from her place outside. "I will fight them, if they need fighting."

_So we did all this running assuming they were something to run from?_

"No!" Inuken went to the barrier and reached his hand through to offer it to Mineko. "Come with us, I can get you through!"

A small, rueful smile played over the youkai woman's face for just a moment. "No. I am full youkai, that shield would never stand me going through, even with your touch. Aya-san is human, she is no threat. Go, Inuken, find out what this destiny of yours is, and I will fight."

Then she moved away, and was gone. Inuken stood at the mouth of the cave, arm extended, for several moments. Aya watched him, wondering if he would bolt out to retrieve his… lover? She didn't know if what had happened between them made them lovers or not. Somehow she thought Inuken wasn't so sure, either.

Finally, he lowered his arm and turned from the barrier and Mineko, his expression tight and worried. "Come on, Aya-san. Let's get in there and get this over with."

Aya nodded, stood, and walked with him deeper into the cave.

* * *

The guardian nearly cried out with joy. So many had come, but none had ever gotten past the barrier. None, until now. Could this truly be the right boy? The right one?

_We will see. He still has to get past me._


End file.
